Stony Creek
by shedoc
Summary: When Ray's life changes, he finds himself a sanctuary far away from those who love him... but evidently not far enough


Prologue

I knew going in that the people I'd meet and the friends and family that I'd inherit weren't really mine. I'd have to give them back once the gig was over - once the real Ray Vecchio returned from his assignment a hero. They warned me that I'd have to work with a Mountie and a wolf, and Vecchio himself came and saw me to make sure that I knew these two in particular were special people and to be taken care of. Then he warned me about the way they both seemed to attract trouble - and he was dead right, they were regular trouble magnets.

But Constable Benton Fraser - or Fraser to his friends, and Benny to Vecchio - was also a really decent guy. He was easy to be friends with - the kind of guy that is infuriating and smart and exasperating and just plain freaky but underneath all that a friendly guy. I started out sort of liking him, moved straight into really liking him, and somewhere along the way I kinda fell in love. The kind of love where you want to get naked and make like crazed weasels under the covers for the rest of your natural life.

Unfortunately, Constable Benton Fraser was as straight as he was tall and well built - which is very. So I left it at really good friends, and if I made like a crazed weasel in my dreams at night then I didn't let on to him. No point in freaking the Canadian out. He'd probably have some kind of Inuit story to cover the situation and then quietly get himself a transfer. And seeing as how Vecchio would be pissed if I ran his friend the Mountie off I kept my trap shut and my mind on the job.

I think that Diefenbaker - Fraser's deaf wolf - probably figured it out. He liked me a lot though and didn't say anything to Constable Benton Fraser - Frase to me.

Then Vecchio comes back and all hell breaks loose. We almost break his cover, and then he does to save Fraser's life when that jerk face Muldoon tries to shoot Frase. God that scared the hell outta me - I couldn't do anything to stop it. From the moment that Vecchio showed up he started with the possessive give back my life and my friend and my family' stuff. Don't get me wrong - he had a tough assignment and his cover wasn't some sweet and light deal. It makes sense that he wanted his old life back and I was the one who had it.

I didn't mind giving him back his job, though Welsh could probably have found me a place at the 2-7 if I asked him to. And Ma Vecchio wasn't likely to just shut me out of her house, I fixed the boiler better than Vecchio could and she got to feed me - I've got a fast metabolism and never seem to gain weight, though she's certainly tried her best to make me. I didn't want to just give back Fraser though. We'd never talked about what would happen when Vecchio came back - he wouldn't have wanted to risk a breach in security and I was too shit scared to find out. But like I said before, I loved the guy and giving him up was gonna hurt.

I was hurting anyway - his face went so dead when Vecchio was shot - like he'd been hit too and was slowly bleeding to death inside. All I could do was get him to the hospital and then go get Ma and Frannie so they could be here in case things went to shit. Tony and Angie came too, leaving the kids with the neighbours and I was glad that his family was there for him. I fetched and carried coffee and snacks and tried to stay out of the way.

Then Frase came out of Vecchio's room. We knew he'd probably live at that point and at this point I was only waiting around so I could tell him I was going after the guys responsible. He was hurting, and when he looked up at me I suddenly wanted to get it over with. Being shit scared was no excuse - I had to know if he was going to let me give him back or if he was going to let me stay around. So I blurted out something stupid about did he still want a partner and he said four words that saved my life.

"If you'll have me."

I wanted to kiss him, but I chickened out and just said something suitably guy like and we got on with the job.

Well to cut a long story short, we nearly died, but we got our man in true Mountie fashion and Vecchio got out of hospital in very short order. We were finishing the last of the paperwork on the whole sorry mess when I got the news about Stella and Vecchio. I think that Frase was just as surprised as me, though I was happy that she was happy. I couldn't see her in a bowling alley, but I figured what the hell - maybe she could do law stuff on the side and it wasn't my business anyway. She called me, and Vecchio called Frase and we were sitting by the fire with Dief curled up against my leg - he'd started doing that after he caught up with us and I wasn't complaining - when Frase turned to me and asked if I wanted to find the Hand of Franklin.

My first thought was hell no'. Hang around in all the cold and wet with Frase and no one else around for miles...actually that sounded pretty good on second thought, so I said yes and we started our quest'. The PD had promised me a six month stretch of leave to rediscover my identity' when the Vecchio thing was over and Fraser had some long service leave coming so we got a team together and headed off into the wilds.

Of course, just because we were back in Canada didn't mean that Frase and Dief stopped attracting trouble, so between learning to survive out in the freaking wilderness and looking for the Hand and hunting down the stupid dopes that were dumb enough to cross our path we wasted three months together. I learned to survive and handle a dog sled - to Frase's surprise I was pretty good at it. I wasn't surprised; I was plain old shocked stupid.

About two weeks into the whole survival-training thing I realised that I wasn't the only one trying to figure out if our friendship was solid. Fraser was trying too - he no longer had to help maintain Vecchio's cover and I guess in a way it was a relief for him. We learned a lot about each other and I learned a lot about myself. Fraser was so damn patient with me, especially when I fucked up, that after a while I got used to the whole idea that he wasn't just humouring me and wanted me around.

Dief stuck pretty close too. I was too damn grateful that the wolf didn't mind me being around to care. I ended up talking to him just like Frase did - in fact we cracked the Mountie up once or twice with our discussions. We even argued over this and that - though when he was losing Dief would knock me into the snow and roll me over. Frase would take sides as the mood struck him, and sometimes he just stayed out of it.

Three months into the quest we got snowed in at a little town called Stony Creek and we started a new phase of our friendship. There was a two-man Mountie post there, and they were down a man so the Sergeant was happy to see Fraser and me. I was surprised about that at first, then realised that I'd gained a bit of a rep with the RCMP as Fraser's American partner. Anyway Fraser went back on active duty at his superior's request and we stayed in the RCMP barracks while we waited for the thaw.

I helped out around the post a little and went out with Fraser when he needed the backup, though I wasn't allowed to carry a gun. It was a bit mind bending to have Fraser cover my unarmed ass when things got hot - but he was a damn good shot and I was too grateful to argue. Then he and the Sarge - that's what I called him, though his name was Brown - got called out and I got to know the town mechanic. I actually damn near knocked him over in the general store when I was looking for chocolate to put in my coffee. I knocked his box out of his hands and picked it all up again because I was in Canada and people out here are polite. I didn't care what they thought of Americans too much for myself, but didn't want to reflect badly on Frase, so I walked to the garage - more of a workspace attached to the general store and deposited the box where I was told.

The town mechanic was called Paul Snow and he was older than Yoda off Star Wars. He was just as smart and cunning too - you could see it in his eyes. He was a grumpy old freak that had a temper fiercer than Ma Vecchio's and a tongue sharper than Stella. He asked me a couple of questions and I told him about the GTO and how I could always get her humming sweetly. He challenged me to prove it on a hunk of junk in the corner and I took him up on it.

Three days of blood sweat and tears later I got it to purr for me and he just clapped me on the back and asked me to help out with a snowplough. Snowy - as I called him to his wincing annoyance - took me around town after that to help out on his house calls'. Between us we must have seen every damn engine in the town and almost everything in a twenty-mile radius. By the time Frase and Sarge got back I'd made a few acquaintances and was bartering my services when Snowy was too busy. Frase gave me that small smile that he usually reserved for big things, like saving a busload of nuns, and my damn fool heart did the happy dance all over again.

Things ended for us at Stony Creek. By the time the thaw came my leave was almost up. Fraser's superiors informed him that they wanted him to take a post further north and I couldn't bear to tell him not to take it. He'd regained that serene edge that I saw in his eyes the first time we met, just after he'd got back from his time in Toronto. He loved being out here and it was better for him. I figured it wasn't fair to drag him back to Chicago when he hated the place so much and congratulated him with Sarge on the new posting.

He decided to take the team overland to his new post and I got up early for a final breakfast with him. Dief and I had our last conversation and Fraser laughed at us a couple of times, though he was a little quiet. I promised him that I was going back to Chicago, and if I changed my mind I'd leave word at the Consulate there for him. We shook hands and he left. Dief kept glancing back, but Frase never did. A small part of me hoped it was because this was hurting him as much as it was hurting me, but I told myself to shut up and get on with it.

Snowy drove me to the airstrip and made me promise to stay in touch. I don't know why, but I did, sending him postcards from Chicago with brief notes. He'd reply - once or twice on a beer coaster. Sometimes there was a message from someone else in town, even the Sarge wrote me once or twice. I started a damn chess game on those postcards, and kept the board set up next to the turtle's tank. In a way it was nice to know that someone in Canada was thinking about me.

Frase and I never wrote.

The 2-7 took me back in. Major Crimes was like coming home in a way the 1-8 had never been. Those guys and gals were like family and weren't at all fazed by the idea that Vecchio' was now calling himself Kowalski'. Ma Vecchio kept inviting me to Sunday lunch and Welsh kept sending me to the Consulate if a liaison officer was needed. My parents moved out of the damn trailer and into a house. Ma Vecchio got to know them too, and you don't know the meaning of misery until you catch a cold and your Polish and Italian mothers are beating down your door with home cooked remedies. Both are concerned that I'm too thin, but I just don't seem to keep the weight on. Even the department doctors tell me to put weight on.

I was ok. I wasn't great, but most days I was good. The empty place where Frase had been was a manageable ache and the work at the 2-7 kept me busy enough not to have to think about it all. Every now and then Turnbull would send me extracts from the monthly bulletins about Frase - mainly about his arrest rate and how many poachers he'd caught single-handed with a roll of dental floss or something - and I'd get depressed. But then something always came up and I'd get back up and keep going.

Chapter One

Then it all went to shit. I can't say much about what happened - though I still wake screaming from the nightmares every freaking night and twice on Sunday's - but when it was all over I was left in hospital minus my right leg below the knee. As soon as I was coherent enough to understand what had happened I made the doctors and nurses promise not to let any visitors in, and made Welsh spread the word that I didn't want anyone calling Fraser or anyone else about the whole freaking mess. I spoke to my parents once a week on the phone, and even spoke to Ma Vecchio once, but basically I became a hermit right there in the damn hospital. I can't tell you why I did it - though I knew that my parents at least loved me.

I went to therapy and worked my ass off, determined not to be a freaking burden on anyone. I didn't want or need anyone's pity or help. Even though they tried to get a shrink to talk to me - actually they tried seven before they got the message and gave up - I kept it all inside. I hated that I was damaged like this and I hated that the damn job had taken my life away from me. I refused the fucking medal they wanted to give me - like it would make a fucking difference - and told the press to go piss up a rope.

I already knew that I wasn't going back to the PD. There was no damn way that I was going to work behind a desk, promotion or not. Hell, even if by some miracle I could retrain and take a field position in the PD, it would be a support role like forensics or something. I hated being left behind, and I knew that being a community policeman - the fancy pants title they gave cops who did the public speaking and education circuit - wasn't for me either. I'm not patient enough for that. Even the Academy wouldn't be any good - supposing they'd have me. I'm not a teacher like Fraser, I'd be more likely to just flunk em than try and help out.

In an effort to try and see me more often my parents were bringing my mail to the hospital. They usually ended up leaving it at the nurse's station, especially once I started locking myself in the bathroom. It's kinda hard to explain why I didn't want to see them. I guess I didn't want to see the pity or disgust in their eyes. The nursing staff was bad enough, though there was one girl who was totally indifferent to the stump that she had to clean and bandage. I couldn't bear to look at it myself and she would usually ask me questions about Canada to distract me. I really liked her, and we've stayed in touch over the years.

Two things saved me from eating my back up weapon. Well, three if you count the fact that it was in my apartment and not in the hospital with me. The first was my technician' and the second was Snowy. My tech' was a sassy woman with a no nonsense attitude. She was the one responsible for measuring what was left below my knee - not much - and designing prosthesis for me. She wore her long hair in twin plaits and had a way of making me feel like it was perfectly normal for her to be touching the place where my leg used to be. She got me measured, she got me fitted and she got me through the rehab - and let me tell you I was a right pain in the arse while she did it.

Instead of the plastic foot and metal brace that I was expecting she fitted me with what I call a suction cup and a bent coat hanger. The prosthesis was flat metal that was very strong and very light weight. The foot was little more than a fold in the metal that doubled back to rest on a flat plate.

"It's like the one the Olympian's use in the athletics events. It's got enough give to compensate for your ankle and let you move around fairly quickly," she told me the first time she brought it in. I told her she was loony tunes if she thought I was gonna wear something like that and she got in my face about it all. After weeks of people tiptoeing around the issue it was kind of a relief to have someone push me back.

I have to admit it felt weird, learning to walk all over again. She was patient though, and told me off if I whined too much. In a way she got further with me than the shrink, especially when I lost it and told her she had no fucking idea what it was like to lose a leg. She simply pulled up her trousers and showed me her left leg - it was the same as my right.

"I was eighteen and my boyfriend lost it on an icy road," was all she said. She knew how I'd lost mine - hell it was in the papers, not to mention my medical files - and we didn't discuss that. Instead we talked about the changes she'd had to make in her life after the accident. I've wondered once or twice about her - she knew a lot about the process of grieving and adjustment - more than if she'd just gone through it herself and listened to the shrinks. I found out later she was a double doctor - a PhD in psychiatry as well as biomechanics. She worked out of the university hospital and was so damn sneaky about it that when I found out years later all I could do was feel the respect and gratitude she deserved.

Snowy saved me with a letter. He was ready to retire but wanted someone to take over his business'. None of his kids knew anything about engines - I got the feeling that they weren't talking to him anyway. You don't ask that kind of a question - or if you do you don't expect an answer. Snowy was planning to head out to live with his sister in Owl Creek - almost on the other side of the country. He'd said once that if I wanted a job to come and see him - now he was asking for real.

I managed to bribe the bursar into charging an international call to my account - the city was paying my bills anyway and could just shut up about it - and got through to Snowy after about an hour of trying one place or another. He said he could wait for me for a couple of weeks and I pretty much hung up plotting my escape straight away.

To say my parents and friends were less than pleased was an understatement. To my astonishment, Turnbull turned out to be very useful, getting the paperwork I needed done with little fuss, though he had a wistful kind of look about him when I came in to get it. I was walking again by then, and damn glad to be out of the hospital. Welsh had offered to chauffeur me around on his day off and we spent the time not arguing about it while I got my life packed up to go and live in Canada. Between the pension from the PD and the payout from the City I was ok financially for the next few years, especially if I watched my spending.

They chucked me a huge look who's alive/leaving' party the night before I was due to leave. Half the 2-7 was there, and even the Ice Queen showed up. She pissed me off when she asked if I wanted her to tell Fraser what had happened and left not long after. Turnbull already had the letter that he was supposed to send if Fraser tried to contact me, though I didn't think it was likely any more.

Which is how I came to live in Stony Creek as the general mechanic come jack of all trades. Snowy left pretty much the day after I arrived and I managed to live in the back of the garage for a few days before Ed Smallpeace offered to sell me the cabin he'd built on the edge of town when he was going to get married. His intended bride had run off with a fur trapper and Ed had decided to remain living with his parents.

The cabin was ok - two bedrooms, a bathroom and a large living area that had a kitchen come laundry tucked in one corner. I had electricity, cable TV and even a phone. The heat came from a fireplace in the middle of the room - it was round, believe it or not, like the ones you see witches and wizards using in cheesy TV shows. It chucked out more than enough heat, and there was a furnace as well for the bitter cold parts of winter.

Not that I got to spend any time there the first two months. Sasha Rose from the General Store took one look at me when she got back from her monthly shopping trip and made me sleep in her spare room while the entire town lined up to push four course meals down my throat. I mean, sure, I was underweight and all - the dieticians at the hospital hated me to death cos I never gained weight on their marvellously balanced and healthy but disgusting diet. It felt like they'd cut off my appetite with my leg. I was never hungry but forced myself to eat what they put in front of me in order to avoid getting my dinner through a tube or something.

The whole town mothered me and for some reason it didn't seem too bad. Sarge asked me to help him keep the dogs fit - that's how I first found out I could still handle a team and walk in snow shoes, though it was way harder than before. The new guy on post - he was called that for a long time - was polite enough, but I got the feeling that he didn't fit into the town too well. People used to wait until Sarge was available rather than talking to him - which must have sucked big time. I'd managed to arrive in late spring and a few of the local guys asked me to help with framing extensions and stuff - winter meant people stayed inside longer, which led to an explosion in the birth rate if you get my meaning.

I learned that the stuff I'd done in woodwork in high school was good anywhere and I could climb a ladder if I was careful. I became pretty adept at juggling the schedule between the mechanic side of the business and unskilled labour everywhere else. The fact that Snowy had hand picked me to take his job helped a lot - people accepted me for his sake at first, and eventually for my own.

They saved me those people - dragged me out of bed fucking early to go to work and kept me up so damn late that I slept right through without waking, sometimes not even dreaming. They force fed me - something my mothers back in Chicago would have appreciated no end and then backed off once they were sure I could do it myself. They even knew enough to let me fall on my ass a couple of times - forcing me to ask for the help I needed, rather than just forcing the help. The more I stood on my own two feet - or foot if ya want to be anal about it - the better I felt about the world. By the time they agreed to release me back to the wild - or rather my cabin - it was winter and I was once more a decent human being, fit for the company of others.

0o0o0o0

Some of the local girls had made interested noises in my direction, which I ignored. The only person I wanted in my bed wasn't likely to ever be there, and I felt too much of a freak to let them see me naked anyway. There were other scars on my body, not just the amputation, and I didn't want to get into how it all happened. No one asked and I never volunteered, so things were cool.

Stony Creek was along the pipeline, so every few weeks we got a crew of roughnecks - the guys who worked the line - into town. Whenever a crew showed up I went to the local bar/diner and helped out in there. Ralf and Mandy Croft worked the place, and Mandy would stay behind the bar while I cleared the tables and collected empties as well as acting as waiter. That saved her from getting her ass pinched by the crews and Ralf getting a broken bottle or glass in his face when he went after the crews for pinching her in the first place. Sarge had used to do that job, but it was hard for him to keep it and the post running with the new guy needing directions to blow his nose. He was a bit like Turnbull in a way, and I kinda felt sorry for him. This was his first posting and I think he was missing the attractions of the larger cities.

The diner was set up like a restaurant with the bar along the back wall and the kitchen just off that. The local families that came to the diner part could sit to one side out of the way of the drinkers - though the families with little kids avoided the place when the crews were in. It was a good chance for me to line up more work - and also a chance to talk to people in general. Not all the roughnecks were bad - we had a few crews go through that were quiet - kept to themselves mostly. A few noisy ones that were hell bent on drinking the town dry and never succeeded. On the whole things were ok. I shoulda figured out that by the time I get used to something - by the time I got a handle on things they go straight to shit. I musta been an axe murderer or something in my previous life, cos I can't think of anything I did in this one that was bad enough to make God hate me.

It started with one of the local girls. She was a bit free and easy with her charms if you know what I mean - she was just this side of standing on a street corner. Not that you could out here - it was way too cold. I guess that we kept a special eye on her - no one liked to see her get in trouble and I guess that gave her a sense of security. That didn't mean she deserved what happened, but in a way it was all kinda inevitable.

Anyway Mary-Sue was in the bar part of the diner that night when the latest crew rolled on in. They seemed ok at first - a bit loud and demanding, but not so bad that I was worried about it all. Mary-Sue was in there flirting as usual. She was just legal, so they fed her a bunch of beers and she sat on the lap of the crew boss - a guy called Jimmy Walker. He was a big man, and loud with it. He kept her giggling and he had a hand up in her crotch kinda, but she was just being Mary-Sue, and so we warned them about the family audience and left it at that. Her folks came in sometimes, and that usually made her behave herself better.

So her folks arrive - I think they had an inkling of what was going on and wanted to do right by their kid. She squirms off Walker's lap and sits beside him almost demure, hanging onto his hand instead. Walker's not the sharpest tack in the pin board and objects to the change in position. He gets kinda insistent, and Ralf heads on over while I'm serving dinner to Sasha Rose and her husband Henry. Mary-Sue's dad heads over too, and the next thing I know there's some yelling and the old guy goes flying while Walker's crew surrounds Ralf.

"Go get Sarge," I tell Sasha - though Mandy was already on the phone while the families with kids got the hell out. I grab a pool cue from the table and gimp on over, whacking my way through the crew and using the bent coat hanger to stomp on Walker's foot in order to get his attention. Mary-Sue's was sobbing with her hand to her face and blood running between her fingers. I see the broken glass she got smacked with and use the pool cue to get Walker in a headlock.

The next thing I know I'm reciting the Miranda - though it's got nothing to do with Canada - in a kind of unconscious reflex. It sounds authoritative enough to hold the situation in place until Sarge and the new guy turn up to arrest Walker properly. Mary-Sue is rushed over to the clinic - the doc's are flown in once a month and we've got some nurses who live out here to render initial aid and treatment. I stay in the diner with Ralf and Mandy, helping clean up and making sure that the roughnecks that weren't arrested don't hang around.

When the diner's closed I stop by the post to see what the Sarge is gonna do with Walker. He tells me that they're gonna transfer him the day after tomorrow to be held over for trial. The cells at the post are for short term only, but Sarge thinks the guy will make trouble if we bail him here, so he's being sent on to court in the larger town that's about a day away from us.

I figure that's the end of it as I give my statement and Sarge puts his hand on my shoulder as I gimp towards the door. It's like getting a pat on the back from your dad - you feel proud that you lived up to his expectations. Even though I'm way too old to be feeling that way, and am some kind of a freak for even thinking it, I grin at him and head for home.

Next day I'm working on the sled that the clinic nurses use to visit their closer patients when I hear the shots. I grab hold of the nearest piece of firewood and head out to the street, keeping my head down and shuffling along awkwardly as my nerves jangle and fire like those damn dogs and the bell. I've been a cop too long to be stupid, and look out into the street cautiously as the sound of a different gun sounds.

I spot the official jeep from the post in the street, and the crumpled red figure in front of it would seem to indicate that one of my friends has been hit. My stomach clenches in an ugly manner as the uninjured Mountie - I can't tell who it is - returns fire from inside the post. The roughnecks are out there, holed up behind another vehicle - one of the trucks used to transport gear and supplies I guess - and they've only got three rifles between them. I curse under my breath and wiggle back around the corner. I find myself some rocks out of the garden that the nurses have set up alongside the clinic - though at the moment there's nothing growing in it - and go back to my place as the roughnecks start yelling about letting their leader go. I fish out my glasses and put them on, and then let fly with the three rocks as quick as I can.

I hit two of the guys with a rifle and shatter a window with the third rock. The guy that's still conscious yells and turns to fire at me when who ever it is in the post fires again and wings him hard enough for the fucker to drop the damn rifle. I'm out and running as fast as I can, kicking the rifles out into the street and slamming my fist into the guy who's now bleeding hard and yelling loudly about police brutality. Then I'm on my knees beside the red serge.

It's Sarge and he's choking on pink frothy blood. I know that's bad from Chicago - I've seen cops die from it and civilians too. I lift him up onto my lap so he can breathe and put pressure on the wound, trying to seal it with my hand so he can get some lung function back. He moans and opens his eyes slowly, gasping up at me. His lips move but he can't talk, and his eyes are full of questions.

"We got them - it's all under control," I tell him, as the new guy finishes securing the cuffs on his prisoners while the nurses do a rough field dressing and check that they're all still breathing, "Take it easy Sarge. We'll get you into the clinic and you'll be fine. There's help on the way."

I can see in his eyes that he doesn't expect to be here when it arrives and it pisses me off for a moment. I can't lose another friend, they help me to exist out here and I have to hang on so tightly to what's left of me that for a moment I'm feeling the same kind of pain that Sarge is.

"Stay here, Sarge," I growl, "Don't you fucking die on me. We need you, dammit."

He smiles at me and one hand rests on mine above his wound. I kinda choke up at that - he's saying goodbye and I know it, but I don't want to lose my friend. He's meant a lot to me. In a scary way it's like I'm losing Fraser - I look up to both of them like some kind of hero, though I love Frase in a way that I could never imagine with Sarge. At the same time I see his understanding. He'll fight this - the agony, and the crippling injury to stay if I tell him to. I can't be that cruel - Sarge is like one of those wild animals I've tracked along the pass - beautiful in freedom, pathetic in captivity. I can't force him to live like me.

"God, Sarge," I whisper, "I'm gonna miss you so much. Thank you for everything."

His hand tightens over mine for a long moment and all the noise and fuss in the world just goes away. For a bit we're alone in the universe, and it's like we're hearing everything the other has left unsaid. I smile at him and nod once, get a faint smile in return and then he becomes a leaden weight in my arms as the light and warmth leaves his eyes. After a minute his hand falls away and I rock him gently to me in farewell before looking up into the eyes of the head nurse. I shake my head and she closes his eyes tenderly. I close my eyes as they take him out of my arms and get up slowly, stumbling in the snow.

As soon as I can move again I head into the post to help the new guy secure his prisoners and wait for reinforcements.

0o0o0o0

What's that phrase they use? All over bar the shouting' - that's how it was with us two days later. The roughnecks were gone - locked the fuck up and outta our hair - and Sarge was being sent home for burial in the family plot. Turns out he had fifteen brothers and sisters and a large extended family. Who knew?

The extra Mounties that seem to show up in an emergency and then disappear again ... disappeared and we were left waiting for Sarge's replacement. He's due to get here in two or three weeks time - they've got just the guy in mind apparently but he's out of contact at the moment and they don't wanna say anything until they've told him so we're kinda in limbo here.

And while we're waiting the new guy sits alone in the post and the town brings any problems they've got to me. Normally I'd have just let it be and done the job - once a cop always a cop and I can do what's needed, damaged or not - but one of the unspoken things in Sarge's eyes was for me to take care of the new guy. I realise one night with a start that I don't even know his full name. I mean he's Constable Stevens - I know that much - but I don't know his first name or anything about him - not even if he likes curling.

So I start taking him lunch and dinner every day, and sit down and discuss the work with him cos even though I know he can do the job I want him to get out into the community a bit more and he ain't gonna do that sitting in the post. And I take the opportunity during one of those discussions to ask what his first name is.

"Stephen," he says and the green eyes darken a little in embarrassment. Jesus on a stick - his parents called him Stephen Stevens? What did they call his sister?

Uh oh - not good. I said that last bit out loud and he goes kinda red - like I'm poking fun at him.

"Stephanie," the answer is painful and I shut my mouth firmly. I am NOT going to laugh at this guy. Nor am I gonna ask if he's got anyone else at home - the whole idea is freaking me right out.

"So, Steve, call me Ray," I tell him casually - he's still calling me sir or Mr Kowalski, though I don't usually answer to that last one. Sounds too much like my dad.

"Thank you kindly," Steve replies and the red fades, as we get right back into the possible paths a suspected poacher might be using. Since I moved here I've been keeping the post dog team exercised and trained - I loved mushing when I was on the quest (once I'd gotten the hang of it) and Sarge didn't mind lending the dogs to me for some of my runs out to distant jobs. Damaged as I was I'd been disqualified from driving, though I could manage automatics ok. I wasn't going to get a special hand control car fitted up for out here - or anywhere else for that matter - it was too damn embarrassing. The use of the sled means I'm mobile and have a good idea of the region - there are no road signs so I've learnt where the dangers and shortcuts are.

Steve isn't a dog man - he has a hesitant touch on the sled that the dogs resent. I've seen them refuse paths that they'd take with me, and I've often packed him in as the passenger when we had to go anywhere. Even Sarge said I was very useful' with the dogs, which was fucking good' in Chicago speak. I didn't let it go to my head - there are plenty people around here that are better than me, and I make no bones about it.

So Steve and I start doing patrol together and we nail the poacher pretty damn quick. We work well together and I manage to get him a little more involved in the community. My main ally in this is Sasha Rose and her husband. By use of some outright begging I manage to get Sasha interested in asking Steve over to share the once-a-week family dinner that she's enforcing under threat of moving me out of my cabin and back into her spare room. I'm still a little too skinny for the weather here - not enough body fat to combat the cold, and when I catch the flu it really knocks me on my ass - so she started this routine in order to make sure I was eating. I eat about a weeks rations in one meal and Steve comes in for some mothering when he confesses that he can't cook to save his life. Literally. Turns out he almost starved to death on a weeklong march because he couldn't get his rations prepared adequately'. I take this to mean he was eating them raw.

Sasha pulls me aside after that first dinner - Steve's been ordered to come in twice a week, and she said that I'd better come too so he wouldn't feel uncomfortable - for a Canadian she's damn sneaky, I know that it's the other way around and she's trying to feed me up again - and tells me I'm a better man than her.

That makes me laugh so hard I almost fall over and she glares at me as if she's reconsidering my baking allotment. I sober up pretty fast then - Sasha's scones are too good to risk. I also wanted it clear that I wasn't all that good - if Sarge hadn't asked me...

"I kinda promised Sarge," I told her, "He was worried, you know he was."

"Sarge," her face softened, "He's tried ever since Constable Stevens arrived to get the boy to loosen up and come out more. You've succeeded. Be proud, honey. I am."

Damn - not another mother. She ever comes to Chicago and I'm toast. I grin and kiss her cheek - like I did my mom's and Ma Vecchio's as well - and head out with my bag of baking to walk Steve back to the post and myself home. When we get there the computer - yeah I was surprised too - is making its polite email noise so I hang around in case it's something about our new Sergeant.

Steve looks up at me after a moment with a big grin on his face and a lot of the tension eased in his eyes. I feel kinda bad that I didn't notice it until it was gone, but what can you do.

"What - did you get promoted?" it's that kind of a grin, and I'm grinning along in sympathy. His eyes widen and he shakes his head real fast. Steve's not an ambitious guy - it shows too. He's not lazy or careless or anything, and he's really very thorough on the job, but he also seems content with what he has. I think he's happy to take orders, though he's no yes man. We've disagreed over the past week and a bit and he sticks to his guns.

"Oh no - I'm not due for promotion for years to come," Steve tells me earnestly, "It's the new post commander. We're getting Sergeant Fraser. Your old partner."

I'm shocked, I have to admit it, and I sit down hard. Frase, here? Where he can see my damage and me? God, how can I handle that? I mean the guy is the love of my life and I've never told him that. What if he pities me? Steve chanting my name while trying to force a chocolate-laced cup of coffee on me finally breaks through and I wake up just enough to take the cup and calm him down. He crouches in front of me and I grab his shoulder.

"I never told him about me being damaged," I blurt out, "Hell I cut my whole freaking family off. Don't tell him ok? I'll have to do it, but not straight away..."

"I promise," Steve said solemnly, gaining a friend for life," I won't tell him."

0o0o0o0

Fraser's stuff is shipped up to us by plane - and I grin at the dilapidated trunk that used to belong to his father. His clothes and mementoes and a whole box of books and they all end up at my place because...well because I take them there and the whole damn town just seems to assume that we'll be sharing living quarters.

He's coming in by dog team - his father's animals that taught me how to sled. He wants to get an idea of the territory - that's what he says in the email he sent Steve and I grin at him. He's been scrubbing the post from top to bottom and refining everything in the archives like the Queen's about to drop in and check it.

I set up Fraser's desk from the boxes of stuff there and the supplies in the post. I manage to get it looking just like the one in the consulate and I go put a bowl down for Dief in the usual spot, after warning Steve that it's going there. Despite our best efforts Steve is still a little on the outer limits of the community, though Sasha is rooting for him now and that goes a long way out here. Steve's worried about it until I point out that I'm going to be known as the guy who took over from Snowy for the rest of my life. He calms down a little after that and manages to beg Sasha for some of those oatmeal and raisin cookies that the whole town love. Fraser liked them too I remember and I guess Steve wants to make a good impression on his new boss, though I'll be rooting for him.

The stuff that I took home goes in the spare room - the trunk at the foot of the bed where it always goes and the books out on my shelves, though I made sure that he would be able to find them. I even stow his clothes away for him. I figure it can't get any more welcoming than that and settle down to fret my dumb heart out while I'm waiting. I feel like I've got a second chance to make him see me in the context of crazed weasels here, but do I want him to look at me that hard? He'll be seeing the damaged remnant that used to be Detective Kowalski of the 2-7 as well. I'm not too proud of that guy.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Two

As we go up the front steps of the post a quiver runs through Dief so strong it's almost a shudder. I pause at the top step and he looks up at me whining eagerly.

"Who's here?" I ask him, not understanding what he's trying to say - my wolf has quite a thick accent when excited. Constable Stevens and Dief never formed a close attachment during our brief sojourn here with Ray. The post is still a man down; though my superiors tell me they are still looking for a third man to come out here. I open the door and Dief tracks straight to the left and the bowl of water sitting there as if he was expecting it.

"Sergeant Fraser!" the constable leaps up and smiles warmly, "Welcome to Stony Creek, sir. Was your journey a pleasant one?"

"Yes, thank you," I reply politely, "I found it most useful in refreshing my memory of the district."

Stevens smiles at me and I hang my coat up on the rack along with my Stetson. His uniform is immaculate and what I've seen of the post so far is as well. I turn and head towards my desk, stopping in surprise when I catch sight of it. The layout is exactly like it had been in the Consulate in Chicago and for a moment I have to repress a fierce longing to be back there. I did not enjoy the city, but I loved the people there - or at least one person...

It didn't take long after the end of our quest for me to realise that what I felt for Stanley Raymond Kowalski was not symbolic or brotherly love. Had I been able to find a way to communicate this to the man I would have done so immediately. When I failed to contrive a way to do that and we lost touch I decided it was for the best and buried the feelings as deeply as I could. I had my duty and that would be enough.

"I took the liberty of arranging for lunch to be delivered sir," Stevens' voice breaks in on my musings and I make agreeable noises before requesting the reports for the last few weeks. I've barely had a chance to sit down with Stevens and review them when Dief sets up a most unseemly fuss, dancing about the door and yelping like a puppy.

"Ah lunch," Stevens says blandly over the noise and I repress a sigh. I took the post here when it was offered for the memories it held. Ray and I were happy here together. In addition to which it was a chance to work with a good community, although I expected some difficulties in the form of resentment for the new man'.

The door to the post opens and Dief streaks out. Someone steps in quickly and shuts the door, leaning back on it and snickering in amusement as Dief creates a fuss from outside the door now. He's so loud in expressing his displeasure that I make a note to speak to him about professional behaviour on duty and then my eyes take in the person leaning on the door.

"Ray!" if my voice and expression are unguarded, the slip is worth the pleasure I see in his face and eyes. He's horribly thin, and pale; there's a shadow behind the joy in his eyes that worries me. Before I can say anything else, or do more than get up out of my chair he laughs and uses the name that Ive missed hearing ever since we separated.

"Hey Frase," he grins and straightens up a little, "Looking good. I brought lunch."

"Allow me," Stevens leaps up and hurries over to remove the bags in Ray's thin hands.

"Probably a good idea Steve - Dief might eat the lot if he knocks me down," Ray rolls his eyes, takes a deep breath and opens the door again. To my dismay Diefenbaker immediately knocks him down and sits on him, whining and licking like an untrained puppy. Ray is laughing and replying to the thousand and one things Dief is telling him in a breathless fashion. For a moment I drink in the sight of my best friend and future life mate reconnecting. Then I move to break it up. Jealousy is an ugly emotion and I refuse to feel it because my wolf gets to stick his tongue in Ray's ear in greeting and I don't.

Dief is highly reluctant to get off Ray, and Ray is in no hurry to push him aside either, seeming content to be slobbered on. We finally manage to prise Dief away when Ray promises to let Dief sit on the couch with him tonight - informing me casually that my effects are in the spare room of his home and he doesn't intend to release them into my custody.

I take this as a good sign and don't argue. When he finally gets up - Constable Stevens pulls my partner up off the floor - I see first hand the limp that drags at his right leg.

"It's why I'm no longer a cop," Ray brushes it off, "I'll tell you later, ok?"

I know that tone of voice and agree quietly. I can be patient. Ray will tell me later... tonight if I have any say in the matter. We settle down with Dief pressed firmly against Ray's leg and eyeing me significantly. I am unable to decipher his meaning and concentrate on my food instead, shooting little side glances at my sorely missed partner.

Despite the amount of food he eats at lunch I can see that we are going to have to work harder at increasing his weight. His clothes swim on him - though they were once the right size. Despite the smile on his face and the light tone in his voice he is saddened - almost depressed. He has made friends with Stevens, though the constable has yet to reach the subtle nuances of my friend. He doesn't appear to be in any pain, though he sits still in the chair - a most unusual sight. Ray Kowalski was always restless - sitting with him during a stakeout could be exhausting as he fidgeted and fussed in his seat. I almost decide to ensure that he doesn't walk too far with me today when I notice something else.

Constable Stevens treats my friend with deference and respect, but also seems to back off when discussing any physical activity. He doesn't push Ray about his limitations - and there must be some if his leg was injured badly enough to disqualify him as a detective. They draw me into a discussion of my sledding team and I realise that Ray is responsible for the one kept at the post. I agree to let Ray continue to use the team when we don't require them for official business and suggest that he take me out to inspect them - in reality a way to get a few moments alone with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

0o0o0o0

Ray leads the way out the back while Diefenbaker stops to investigate the bowl of water again. The post is designed in a sort of horseshoe shape, with the post forming the bottom part of the shoe, running along the main street. On the left side are the barracks and the cells; on the right side are the garage and storage sheds. The team's kennels are in the back of the garage, and let out into the horseshoe middle. It allows us to have a staging area for the teams and an exercise yard as well. At the moment it is covered in snow, even the walkways.

I see this in the moment that Ray opens the door and steps forward. He goes down the single step and there is a horrific clanging noise. He stumbles back with a yell and I snatch him to my chest, both arms wrapped around him and holding on tightly. I see with sick horror that a large animal trap has sprung almost closed around his right leg - in fact it is barely open enough to admit the bone between it's jaws.

Diefenbaker start forward with a whine and Ray yells incoherently, flailing his hand to push Dief back into the post.

"Steve grab Dief - more traps!" the words take a moment to make sense and then I realise he is warning Stevens to protect my wolf partner from the possibility that more traps have been laid. I am too preoccupied with wondering why there is so little blood gushing from what must be an agonising injury to pay much attention.

"Ray," I whisper and a hand comes up to pat my arms gently, offering comfort in a way that makes my heart ache. I realise that I am shaking and sweat beads my face as my stomach rolls at the thought of what this is doing to the man I love.

"It's ok Ben," he says in a very tired voice, "It didn't get my leg."

For a wild moment I think that he's right - maybe it just caught the material of his pants. Then he shifts and I see his boot inside the trap. Thinking he must be in shock, I turn my head to find Stevens and have him call for help and bring a blanket. He is at my shoulder, his knife out and a sick look in his eyes.

"You want my knife, Ray?" he calls and Ray shakes his head, sighing heavily and slumping against me. For a moment I tighten my grip, thinking he has finally fainted, but I realise that he is shaking too with some suppressed emotion.

"I can't balance well enough to bend over," his voice is thick and dry, "You'll have to do it. Cut near the knee..."

"Ray!" I exclaim, "We should call for medical assistance! Constable..."

"With all due respect sir, you are not in full possession of the facts. Mr Kowalski is better equipped to handle this," Stevens interrupts and I glare at him. Before I can do or say anything he slips to one side and starts slicing at Ray's trousers near the knee as directed. When he has severed the trouser leg Stevens slams the knife into the wooden step and reaches hesitantly underneath the material. Ray begins to shake harder, and in a very little voice he says,

"Run your finger around the top to loosen it."

And the next thing I know my partner is pulling his leg up and there's a noise and he's pushing back so hard I sort of stumble back. Ray makes a hopping motion and joins me on the step, leaving behind...

I swallow hard. The bottom of the trouser leg gapes obscenely around the prosthesis and I suddenly understand what Dief was trying to say with those long looks. He was leaning against that limb. The thought that Ray was injured so badly that he'd lost a leg and never told me about it causes my mouth to override my brain and my feelings to override my control.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I blurt and feel Ray tense within my embrace. I pull him even closer and shiver at the implications. I could have lost him and never known.

Stevens opens the door and then comes back to stand by my partner. Ray puts a hand on Stevens shoulder, and accepts the one wound around his waist. He hops into the post, the empty trouser leg flapping in gruesome reminder.

"With your permission sir, I'll go up to Ray's cabin and retrieve a few items," Constable Stevens doesn't even wait for my permission, he's out the door as soon as Ray is seated in the chair he occupied for lunch.

Ray won't meet my eyes; he seems focussed entirely on Dief's ear as he rubs his too thin hands into the ruff of silver fur at the wolf's neck. I begin to understand his presence and condition a bit better. Ray will not accept pity - in fact he'll rarely accept sympathy unless he's asking for it. He would see himself as damaged. Perhaps that's why he's settled here - the people here would accept him in the basis of his work, not his physical requirements.

"I'm sorry Ben," his voice is clogged with unshed tears. We're both shaking in reaction, though I am rapidly regaining control of myself. I feel sick that he thinks he must apologise for injuries that were probably suffered in the line of duty. My partner can be very selfless in that regard.

"Understood," I forestall any further conversation, "You can tell me when you feel more yourself."

"I was going to tell you, I swear," his face is frightened, but his eyes latch onto my face with determination. I allow my mask to slip, and let him see the love I feel for him, knowing that at the moment all he'll really notice is the absence of pity.

"I do not doubt that," I reply, "You would never lie to me about something like this. One day, when you feel you can bear it I would like to know how...but not now Ray. The trap did not injure you in any way?"

In other words did the prosthesis hurt you when it was jarred like that? He shakes his head, and I stand still while his eyes search mine so thoroughly I feel as if I am naked in front of him. He drops his gaze after a moment and tells me he isn't hurt. I decide he needs some time to recover out of my presence, and as I am far more mobile than he I tell him I'm going to check the yard to see if there are any other dangers. He makes me promise to stay on the steps and I do - seeing all too clearly that his nerves can't take any more.

There is a supply of firewood to one side of the door and I throw pieces of it at suspect patches of snow - hard. I discover three more traps that way and relieve some of my tension at the same time. Stevens comes out to join me, draping a blanket over the first trap.

"He's just changing, sir," Stevens retrieves his knife, slipping it back into it's sheath after a glance at the blade, "I would like to apologise for my earlier words, sir. It was not my place to interrupt you like that."

"I understand why you did," it's as close as I want to come to a thank you and Stevens seems relieved at my words. We begin to discuss the best way to ensure that there is no further danger in the staging yard, as the dogs are frequently let out here to exercise while the kennel is cleaned.

Ray comes out in different trouser and boots, limping a little harder and bundled up in his coat and gloves. He makes arrangements with me about dinner and nods to Stevens once before heading out. Dief whines at him, but stays with me when Ray tells him to.

0o0o0o0

We do not discover the criminal that laid the traps that afternoon. Neither of us is well focussed, and Stevens is also upset. I imagine it must be unnerving to be told to touch a friend's amputated limb in such an intimate manner and I finally call halt to the proceedings - wanting to get to Ray as quickly as I can.

Constable Stevens furnishes me with directions; though I can probably locate the cabin using my own tracking abilities with Dief's mixed in. The cabin is fairly new and well maintained. It is a good size and I spot the dish that tells me cable TV is installed there, as well as a phone.

The coat rack is by the door and again there is water and food down for Dief in the accustomed area. My heart leaps at the thought that Ray is trying so hard to make us welcome. I realised on my walk to my new home that any declaration of my feelings would be misconstrued at this point and have hardened myself to the effort of concealing them for a while longer.

Ray's eyes tell me he has been crying, though the delicious smell of dinner permeates the comfortable interior. Ray has become tidier since he moved here - though I realise the clutter that he lived in in Chicago belonged to a different man. This Ray is still bleeding, though his physical wounds are long since healed. I can wait to regain my Ray - the funny ball of energy that I first fell in love with before I discovered the beautifully complex man beneath.

"That smells good," I smile and his face lightens a little in relief.

"Yeah, it'll be ready soon. You wanna wash up and change?" he limps from the kitchen and shows me the bathroom and my bedroom. I wash up and then go to change, reflecting that this room will do until I can join him in his. Reminding myself to be patient and calm I return to the living area for dinner.

Ray is an excellent cook - despite the fact that he seemed to live on take out in Chicago. The meals I had the pleasure of eating at his apartment there fade in comparison with the one he now serves me. I praise him with a smile and Dief begs a few scraps. He asks me about my last posting over dinner and that is all the excuse I need to fill the silence. I tell him about the people there and Dief adds his own comments. It's like old times for us and I see some of the bruised look fade from his eyes when he realises I am not going to push for details about his accident. Any questions I ask in return are limited to his time spent here in Stony Creek and general inquiries about our mutual friends in Chicago - most of whom he now writes to. Ma Vecchio apparently sends him a care package' now and then - we eat some of it for desert and I help with the clean up, just like old times.

We settle to a game of chess with the television on in the background. He still takes chocolate in his coffee and has secured the tea blend that I favour above all. In fact I sneaked a quick look in the kitchen while he was in the bathroom. Many of my favourite foods rest on the shelf along with his. Ray meant to keep me at the cabin then, even after he'd told me about his injury. I am warmed straight through at the thought that he does feel something for me, and head back to the chessboard, sitting just as I hear the door open.

Dief chooses that moment to announce his wish to go out and Ray pulls his coat on, telling me to stay where I am, as I look tired. I concur, adding that I wish to retire for the night and would he mind?

Ray smiles at me and wishes me sweet dreams before limping outside to walk Dief.

I head for my room, and lay in bed listening to him lock up the cabin for the night - unnecessary out here, but a long standing habit is not easily broken - before he retires to his own room. I hear Dief accompany him and their quiet argument as Dief makes it clear he intends to sleep with Ray tonight. I quell another flash of jealousy and go to sleep.

At some point in the night I hear a few odd noises as Ray goes to the bathroom, but the cabin is soon still again.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Three

The next morning it is on the tip of my tongue to ask Ray why he did not call me when he was injured, but something holds me back. In hindsight I realise that the question would have been counter productive at that stage - Ray had not yet learned to trust me with his new body and I had not yet learned to read his new signals. I remain in bed until I hear him limping in the kitchen. When I emerge from my room he is fully dressed and gives me a little smile and a faint good morning.

Breakfast is quick - Ray tells me he has to get out of town to an engine that has seized and he'll be taking the dogs unless I want them. I remind him that my father's team is here too and he grins, slaps himself on the forehead and waves goodbye - out the door before I am with Dief whining sullenly when Ray tells him to stay with me. I realise that he's a little worried about the implications of yesterday and speak to Dief about it as we walk into town. It won't do for us to make Ray uncomfortable in his own home. Dief growls something about broken sleep, but I ignore him, pointing out that he chose to share Ray's bed last night - he was not invited.

I reach the post just as the mail delivery does - it's dropped by plane and Constable Stevens gets up early to retrieve it, taking the bag to the general store for processing and accepting the bundle of documents that belong to the post. I recognise the writing on one of the envelopes straight away - I've had to decipher Turnbull's ornate yet messy hand more than once and am surprised that the mailing clerks were able to as well. The Chicago postmark has Stevens eyes flash in recognition, but he quite properly shows no interest in the letter and I decide to open it later. There is a mark under the stamp that tells me the letter is personal - I recall it from my time with Turnbull in Chicago.

We are unable to discover any relevant clue as to the owner of the traps that so nearly injured one of us. Despite our best efforts they yield little evidence to examination. They are well oiled and cared for. The prosthesis - I have a hard time connecting it to my partner - is dented and scratched, leading me to believe that if I had stepped in the trap it would have cut my leg off just above the ankle. I feel sickened by the thought and hope it never occurred to Ray. The last he needs is to be reminded of his own injury, the circumstances of which I am sure are responsible for the shadow on his bright soul.

A day of careful inquiries leads us nowhere. The people we do speak to are upset at the incident - even more so when they realise that Ray has become the victim. Ray has become a real part of the community here and I decide to play along that angle a little - the townsfolk are much more likely to pass on information to help someone they care for.

Our efforts aren't fruitful, and I return to the cabin before Ray does. I start dinner - a stew that I know he'll like - and then sit on the couch to read my letter from Turnbull. There is a second envelope sealed inside the first, and Ray's handwriting draws my eye. I quickly read the note Turnbull sent with the envelope, cutting through the blither as if Turnbull were standing in front of me, rather than written words on a page. Ray left the envelope at the Consulate in Chicago with the instructions that Turnbull was to mail it on should I attempt to contact my partner. The fact that we were in the same location now and the letter would arrive after I did had not deterred my former colleague from following Ray's instructions.

I shake my head, put the letter to one side and run my fingers over the envelope that is still sealed. The handwriting is weak - I believe that Ray wrote this while still in hospital - and unlike his usual errant sprawl. Energy used to add little flourishes and loops to his letters, so if Ray wrote anything when he was excited or in a hurry it became almost illegible to anyone but Ray. Of course Ray was usually excited or in a hurry - though perhaps I should say that Detective Kowalski was. It is possible that I am no longer dealing with the man I knew in Chicago - grievous injuries can change a person, though what changes I have seen so far are the result of depression rather than personality. I opened the envelope in steam from Ray's kettle, not wanting to risk damage to it. Dief pressed closely against my leg and nudges me until I agree to read the enclosed note out loud. I settle on the couch and take a deep breath, gathering my wits.

The further I read the more my throat aches. Unshed tears burn my eyes at the simple retelling of the selfless act of courage and sacrifice that led to Ray's injuries. My heart seizes at the litany of pain as I realise that he had almost died before they could get to him, and again on the operating table as they struggled to put him back together. I did weep when he explained about cutting himself off from the people who loved him the most, unwilling to risk his image in their eyes. There were a few splotches on the hospital stationary that spoke of bitter tears. The cost of writing this simple letter was carved clearly into the page, shaped in the letters and words he had written for me.

My heart broke as I realised that the man I loved felt that he was too damaged and useless to be of use to his family and friends. The despair told me that had he not been called to Stony Creek it is very possible that I'd have lost Ray to suicide. I had to stop for a moment then. How could my beautiful man not know that he was loved for himself and not his ability to be a detective and athletic son? I felt angry with the people we'd left behind in Chicago, that they hadn't pushed hard enough to make him see this clearly.

It was the final line that made me realise that my feelings for Ray weren't one sided. Before I even had a chance to assimilate that idea his footsteps sounded on the deck. I drop the letter on the table and beat Dief to the door, flinging it open and sweeping him into my arms, pulling him off balance and inside eagerly.

"I love you too," I hardly recognised my own voice as I held him to me, trying to communicate through touch all I wanted to say, "I love you Ray Kowalski. I love you."

"Oomph," was the unromantic response, though his arms were tight around my chest. Dief was pressing in against us both and whining loudly. It was that eventually that made me loosen my grip as I turned to remonstrate with him.

"Ben!" Ray clutched at me and I felt the tears on his face as he pressed it into my neck, "Oh God I'm so sorry! I love you too and I can't stop! You deserve so much more - not some damaged ex cop. Just, please don't leave me! I can't bear it!"

"Never!" I vow and Dief is shocked to silence at the fear in his pack mates voice, "I love you and I will spend the rest of my life with you."

We rock there in the half open doorway until I manage to nudge it shut. I work Ray out of his outerwear without letting go of him at any point and then manage to get us both onto the couch, lying on our sides with Ray wrapped around me and shaking as he sobs silently. I am content to ride out the storm with him in my arms.

At some point I realised that where our legs are tangled I can feel the unyielding metal of the prosthesis against my own. The cold reminder makes me tighten my grip and I scatter kisses over the honey blond mop that covers Ray's head. He sobs harder and burrows in so close he's almost in my clothes with me. I croon and shush mindlessly, my hands stroking him even as I kiss everything I can reach.

0o0o0o0

When he finally lifts it out of my soaked shirt, Ray's face is a mess. His eyes are swollen almost shut and his face is swollen. There is the usual mess of mucous that occurs after a crying jag, but that doesn't deter me from kissing his swollen eyes and blotched cheeks. Before either of us can speak a bell sounds in the kitchen and both of our stomachs rumble in response. Ray gives a watery sort of chuckle and I drag us both upright and then off the couch. I kiss his forehead once more and let go cautiously.

"Go wash up while I set the table," I suggest, "I love you."

Ray nods, tears swelling once more in red eyes. I brush them away with my thumb and kiss his eyes one last time before heading firmly away to the kitchen. I hear Ray stumble and steel myself not to turn and catch him, freezing only for a moment before heading on to the kitchen. Dief accompanies Ray anxiously as he heads for the bathroom and I manage to serve dinner and drinks by the time Ray has returned.

He looks a little better - still red around his poor swollen eyes and his breathing hitches once or twice as he tries to regain control - yet won't quite meet my eyes. We sit opposite each other and I wrap one foot around his ankle, smiling a little when he glances at me. He stretches that leg out towards me a little and smiles hesitantly in return. We eat in silence and clean the kitchen the same way.

I pull Ray back onto the couch, sitting close and holding his hand. Something tells me that pushing too hard right now is contraindicated and I'm happy with the simple contact for now.

"Ray, I have to say this - and then I'll never bring it up again unless you do," I feel him tense and watch the colour drain from his face as he fixes his eyes on the fireplace. I wish he could just see my heart and know what I was going to say - thus sparing him this moment of fear and pain.

"No matter what you do for a living, or how you do it, I will always love you. I believe I fell in love on the quest - you were trying so hard to be all you could. You are a good and decent man and nothing will change you in my eyes. Of course, should you choose to become a criminal I will be forced to arrest you, but I will remain faithful while you are in prison serving your sentence."

There's a little snort of laughter and he finally meets my eyes. I let my guard drop - relishing that I'm almost naked in front of him as I let him see my heart so clearly. Something in his eyes eases and he sags against the cushions for a moment before straightening and opening his eyes. The expression in them! So much love and gratitude and lust and so many more things, all of them exciting and all of them for me! He flings himself forward into my arms and kisses me passionately, his lips warm and restless against mine as his tongue traces my mouth and taps at my lips. I open obediently and he slips inside. His flavour explodes across my tongue and I groan, pressing closer for more of it, letting my own tongue move and touch in return.

Ray shifts carefully on the couch, angling his body to press against mine, drawing me closer and wrapping his arms around my torso. I shift obligingly, leaning back and drawing him after me until we are once more tangled on the couch. He stiffens for a moment when he realises our legs are twined together and the prosthesis is touching me, but I continue to kiss him lightly, stroking his back with one hand and his hair with the other. There is a muffled sob and a single hot tear splashes on my face before he intensifies the kiss again, licking and nibbling at my lips in delightful movements.

His hands stray through my hair and over my face - as if he is learning me by heart. I sigh and hitch him closer, earning a smile. He leaves one hand tangled in my hair and sends the other down to caress my shoulder and chest. I arch as he finds and strokes a nipple through my clothes, moaning into his mouth shamelessly as the sensation screams straight down to my groin. I feel the first of the blood rush and gasp for air as the man I love arouses me with his mouth and hands. I can feel him harden as well, just from the effect he's having on my own body and increase my appreciative noises as he rubs against my thigh almost as an afterthought. I cannot let go of his head, feeling that I must continue to caress that silken hair and stand it up in spikes until it looks the way I became accustomed to seeing it in Chicago.

Before I can lose myself in the sensations that Ray is giving to me a loud whine interrupts us. Ray pauses and then lifts his mouth away from mine reluctantly to turn his head. I open my eyes - not realising I had closed them - to see Dief dancing that dance beside the couch. He whines again, urgently and Ray muffles his laughter in the crook of my neck.

"Looks like number one son needs to go out, dad," he gasps and I laugh too. I cannot help it - Dief looks so urgently disgusted at the comment. Ray calms down, kisses me thoroughly for good measure and then heaves himself up off my body and the couch.

"May I join you in bed tonight?" I ask him as I sit up. I keep my eyes fixed on his face. Ray trusts me with his heart, I know that absolutely - and I also know that he is still unsure about trusting me with his new body. That will change in time when he is sure of my reaction to whatever his clothes are hiding. Some scarring, certainly, and the place where his leg used to be.

"We needn't do anything other than sleep. To be honest I am a little fatigued," I give him my best honest expression and he grins, a quirk of his lips that makes my heart pound in joy. He nods and heads into his room while I go to the door. Dief dashes out the moment I open it and I snag my coat to follow him, glancing back at the now empty living area of the cabin. It is home to me already, and I smile.

Ray is in bed when I return, lying stiffly with the light off and the covers pulled up to his chin. I fetch my sleepwear and enter his room, changing in front of the bed before slipping into the bed and taking his hand. We lie like that for a while before he sighs and rolls onto his side, bringing our hands up to his chest.

"I'm...ashamed," his voice was low and choked, "You're perfect..."

"No," I laid a finger on his lips, "I'm not. No one is. You are beautiful to me - you always will be. It doesn't matter to me what scars you have. I can only see you as beautiful."

Ray makes a choked little noise and scoots closer hesitantly. I free my hand and wrap my arms around him, pulling him against my body. I feel the stump of his leg brush against me and kiss his temple while he quivers and decides whether to bolt or not. In the end he stays and slowly relaxes in my warm clasp. Eventually his breathing slows into sleep, leaving me to marvel at the strength of my partner. A lesser man would have died of loneliness by now, his heart broken. My Ray's spirit and strength were at a low ebb, but I have confidence I can help him recover them in time.

0o0o0o0

I am woken by a muffled scream. Ray is fighting to get free from the comfortable sprawl that we'd fallen asleep in, and in shock I let go, rolling back to the edge of the bed. Despite the fact that I have let go, Ray continues to fight and I hear a muffled groan as he thrashes and convulses in the bed. From the few words he utters I realise that he is reliving the incident that led to the loss of his leg. My heart breaks at the pleading tone in his voice and I begin to understand that he was aware of the medics' efforts to free his trapped body and the final decision to remove the leg. Dief leaps onto the bed with a growl and dodges a flailing arm to grip the sweatshirt that Ray had worn to bed. He leans back sharply, putting his weight into the movement, just in time to stop Ray from falling from the bed.

Ray wakes with a gasp and lays still, panting in remembered terror as his surroundings slowly become clear to him. Dief lets go carefully and steps forward to lick the tears from Ray's face. Thin trembling arms wrap themselves around Dief's neck and he settles onto Ray's chest with a gentle rumbling noise.

I am frozen, unable to move and unwilling to make him remember that there is an all too human witness to his fear. They seem totally immersed in each other as Dief soothes my lover back to a semblance of calm. I put a hand out to them but don't touch; sensing perhaps that it is best to let Ray recover on his own for a moment. As though sensing the movement, Ray drops a hand from Dief's fur to rest on mine. There is a minute tremble in the long fingers and I squeeze gently, tying to give him some of my strength.

"Did I hurt ya, Ben love?" Ray's voice is rough and tired sounding, though he doesn't remove his face from the fur it is buried in.

"Not at all," I am grateful to be reporting the truth. This is the sound that I heard last night - the aftermath of the nightmare that had woken Ray and his trip to the bathroom. Even as I realise this, Dief is shifting back and Ray is letting go to lean over the edge of the bed, pulling out a pair of crutches and getting up to go to the bathroom with Dief shepherding him gently. I stretch my hearing anxiously and am relieved to hear only the sounds of a man relieving himself, then the taps as he washes his face and hands, mumbling under his breath the whole while. Dief makes a grumbling noise in response to Ray's low comment and there is a shaky chuckle in reply as Ray answers him. They have bonded into a pack already and Ray's comment about number one son is truer than ever.

It is while he is sliding the crutches back under the bed that my brain finally processes what he said and engages my mouth without my permission.

"What did you call me?" I gasp and Ray turns to look at my left shoulder - apparently the only point on my body that won't embarrass him. I'm too stunned to notice - this is the first pet name I've ever been given in my life and I want to be sure that it wasn't said accidentally. I see no regret in his eyes; though I suspect he is worried I will think him too sentimental. I don't - the fact that he has given me a pet name has my heart soaring.

"Ben love," his voice is steady, "Too sappy? I usually call you Frase in front of everyone, but in my head it was always Ben or Ben love. Not Benny - that was the real Ray's name for ya."

"You are the real Ray," I breathe, "The only Ray I'll ever need. The only one I love."

I seal that vow with a kiss and then tug him back down along my body, resettling us in the sprawl that the nightmare interrupted. I can feel the tension in his body and try to ease it with my hands, stroking and gentling him until he is once more relaxed in my arms. It takes a long time - his muscles jerk back to tension now and then as his memory throws something else at him. Gradually the tremors become less frequent and eventually they die out altogether. We lie in silence for a while and then he stirs a little, dashing my hopes that he is asleep once more. Dief lifts his head from it's place on the bed, looking annoyed that Ray won't cooperate and just go back to sleep.

"Ya know, with you here it doesn't seem too bad," there is a drowsy kind of wonder in his voice and I feel my eyes burn with tears. I kiss the top of his head and then nuzzle his hair. I wonder how long he's been fighting the night terrors all alone in this empty cabin. Despite the friendship and support of the people at Stony Creek my love is still very alone - or he was. Never again.

"I'm here now," I promise, "You're not alone anymore."

He lifts his head enough to kiss me and then puts it back in place. I am gratified to hear his breathing slow to a true sleep rhythm. Dief looks across the lax body at me and then shifts closer to rest his own head on Ray's back. I decide not to fuss about it now - after all the wolf did take care of Ray last night in my place - but I resolve to speak to Dief about this in the morning. I have no intention of performing in front of him and I'm pretty sure Ray doesn't either.

0o0o0o0

We discuss our plans for the day over breakfast and Ray mentions that he needs to set up an appointment in Chicago to get a new prosthesis fitted to replace the one that was damaged in the trap. I nod my acceptance and then inform him that I may not be able to accompany him as I have only just arrived at the post.

"It's ok, Ben love, I can handle it," he smiles at me. We've both smiled a lot this morning, waking together was a wonderful experience and I want to experience a lot more of it.

"It should only take a week or so and I'll go visit the folks while I'm there. Mom's been pressing me for a while and Ma Vecchio's last letter was positively demanding."

I'm not surprised that he's stayed in touch with the Vecchio's - Ma Vecchio used to get a very soft look in her eye when speaking to her son' and I thought she would try to keep him once both Ray's were finished with the undercover role.

"Perhaps we could spend Christmas there," I suggest, "If you think you would like to."

His face lights up in a smile and he reaches over to touch my hand. He nods and then gets up, limping around the table to kiss me. It is a soft tender kiss that none-the-less stirs my groin and speeds my heart.

"Woo, what you do to me," Ray gasps when he pulls back, "Now I need a cold shower."

His erection is pressing eagerly against the front of his jeans and I decide I cannot wait any longer. I want the taste of him and the texture of him on my tongue.

"I can think of a better way to help with that," I whisper and turn in my chair to press my face against his bulge. It twitches against me and his breathing hitches. I rub my face in his groin, bringing my hands up to cradle his buttocks and pull him closer. He pants in reaction and I undo the jeans quickly, drawing him out before replacing my hands.

"You always used to say I like to lick strange things," I chuckle and take him in my mouth. The fluid weeping from the slit in his penis tastes a little bitter, then I can taste him and I groan in delight. I run my tongue over him for the texture and swallow gently as I draw more of him into my mouth. He is making little noises of pleasure and his hands come down to caress my head as I work his cock in and out of my mouth, suckling and licking as the mood takes me. His noises become urgent as he chants my name over and over again - a litany of pleasure and praise. His cock twitches hard in my mouth and his hands tighten, trying to warn me and pull me away. I simply latch on and suck harder, swallowing, as my mouth is flooded with his come.

I lick him clean and tuck his limp penis back into his clothes, rearranging them so he is dressed properly once more. I become aware of my own erection, straining against my uniform trousers and shift a little. Ray straightens up - he had been leaning rather heavily against the table and me while he panted for breath - and he leans down to kiss me. He draws back in astonishment at his taste in my mouth and then leans in again for another sweet kiss. Wordlessly he draws me up to lean on the table while he sits in my seat and unbuckles my belt before opening my trousers.

"Ben love," he sighs and draws my aching erection out, kissing the tip before sucking me all the way into his mouth and swallowing hard. I come like a stampeding herd of musk ox, clutching the table in shock as the pleasure explodes through my body and steals all reason.

I regain my awareness cuddled to his chest. He is kissing my hair and cupping my limp penis in his hand, stroking it with a single finger, while his other arm cradles me close. He is crooning nonsense to me between kisses, words of love and reassurance as he rocks to and fro a little. I feel warmed and comforted and nuzzle into his neck. He chuckles a little.

"Signs of life," his voice is loving and I sigh happily, "You back with me yet?"

"Mmmm," I agree and he lets me be. The finger that is stroking my penis feels so good that I shift into it, looking for more sensation. He obliges, using his whole hand to stroke and caress me, sending pleasant aftershocks through my body. I hum in reply and snuggle in close. He feels like home and safety and I think I tell him this because he kisses my temple and nuzzles my hair.

After a while I have the strength to sit up a little more and I look up at him with a smile. We share a slow kiss and then press our foreheads together. He sighs in contentment and then pats my back.

"Work," his voice is regretful and I jump in remembrance. He laughs as I glance at the clock and fumble my uniform back into place. He kisses me soundly and lets me go, stepping back carefully.

"I'll bring ya some lunch," Ray promises and I snatch another kiss.

"I love you," I tell him, "I'm sorry I have to go."

"I love you too, Ben. It's ok," his face is clear and his tone content, so I kiss him again before tearing myself away and hurrying to the door. Dief licks Ray's hand and trots after me, glancing back before he goes through the door - as reluctant as I am to leave my lover behind.

"We'll see him at lunch, Diefenbaker," my voice is stern and Dief shakes himself hard before matching his pace to mine. If we hurry we can still be on time.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Four

Sasha Rose is expecting me for dinner tonight, and I warn Frase at lunch that he and Steve are expected too. Steve starts to stammer something about missing out this time and I fix him with the old Chicago glare.

"Yer coming to dinner, Steve. Don't make Sasha send me after you," I growl and he nods, his face a little red. I keep the glare on him to see what will happen and he goes redder before starting to shake. I turn it up a notch and he bursts into gales of laughter, slouching helplessly in his chair while the sound just pours out of him. I grin hard and nod once before winking at Frase and ruffling Dief's fur. He looks at me with a blank expression.

"Human humour," I tell him and he snorts before going to see if Steve has dropped any food in his hilarity. Frase rolls his eyes at me as Steve gets it together and I grin again.

"How are we going with the traps?" I think Frase is surprised that I asked, but I've got two very good friends and the man I love working here and I don't want to see them getting hurt. Not now that I've finally got it on with the man I love.

"We're unable to locate sufficient clues to lead us to the perpetrator," Frase says in a dark voice and I make a note to tell him again that I'm ok. The jarring I got wasn't pleasant, and I'm a little tender because of it, but it could have been worse. It could have been my other leg - or Frase.

"The people we did speak to were all able to account for their hardware and their time," Steve adds, "Quite a few people have inquired about your health, Ray."

"They only gotta go down to Bucker's cabin to find out about that. I swear the man is insane - he now wants me to build him a conservatory as well as the new library," I shake my head, "He wants it shaped like a map of Canada so he can plant seedlings typical to the area in the right locations. I pointed out to him that out here it was gonna cost him a whole pile of money, but ever since he won the state lottery he's been splurging."

Frase gapes at me, but Steve has heard it all before and simply collects his lunch wrappers. I brought enough for all of us - Dief included - because it would seem strange to bring in food just for the two of us. Not to mention rude. Steve is a good man and a friend and doesn't need to be given the cold shoulder just because his boss and I are starting on a lifetime of making like crazed weasels.

"Mary Sue will be back in town next week," Steve tells me and I feel a pang of loss. Her face was cut up pretty bad and they flew her out for plastic surgery. I heard that her face was gonna be scarred for life and I wondered how she'd manage out here now. She'd always be linked to the death of Sarge in some people's minds - that and the fact that a lot of the local mama's were cracking down on their girls' behaviour and friendships. Mary Sue would be out in the cold socially for a while.

"Poor kid," was all I said, "We should go round later Steve, and see if her folks need anything."

Steve nodded and then volunteered to do that himself, which Frase thanked him kindly for. Obviously my Ben love was planning to monopolise my time for a while. I remind them both of the time that dinner will be served at Sasha's house and then head on out after arranging to meet Frase there. Bucker wants his new library finished by the end of the week and I've got work to do. I also need to read the manual of his new car in case something goes wrong with the stupid thing. It's one of those new models that fetches your slippers and drives itself while reading the paper out loud - all new fancy gadgets. The thought makes me grin and wonder when I turned into my dad.

Mandy Croft stops me in the street to ask me to check over their generator tomorrow morning and I pause long enough to get the latest gossip, including news of her pregnancy. I congratulate her and promise to come and check the generator first thing before heading on along the road. A few other people stop me and it gets me to thinking about Chicago and how different things are on the streets there.

I get to Buckers and swallow a groan at the catalogue he's waving at me.

0o0o0o0

Dinner at Sasha's is kinda interesting. Steve is welcomed like the second son, and sat in his usual place while I do the honours with the formal introductions. Then Sasha is on me, hugging hard enough to count my ribs by touch - which is probably what she's doing - and then ordering me out to the kitchen to help set the table while the two Mounties sit with her husband and discuss the woodcarving he's in the middle of. He's teaching me to do that and it's kinda cool - soothing in a way. Most my sculptures look like nothing on earth and end up in the fire, but I'm slowly getting better. I ordered a set of proper knives in a catalogue and that helped.

Sasha is still on her feed Ray until he bursts' campaign and Frase gets a grin on his face that he hides when he sees me looking. He sits bolt upright when Sasha fixes him with the mommy glare' and starts grilling him about my eating habits away from her eagle eye. I almost feel sorry for the guy until I realise he's nodding enthusiastically and swapping fattening recipes. He'll soon cool it when he realises that it's him she'll yell at if I don't weigh in heavier at my next visit.

Steve is relieved to be out of the crossfire until Sasha starts in on his suggested diet and can Frase possibly supervise that as well. Both men are thankful that Frase can't and Steve gets upped to three times a week visits. Mr Rose and I just share a wink and eat quietly, knowing better than to get involved. Neither one of us wants to sleep on the couch tonight.

"So, did you get your doctor's appointment?" Sasha fires at me over her heavenly pie and I nod, then chew hard and swallow quickly so I can answer her more politely.

"There was a cancellation for next week - I'll be able it fit in then. I'll be gone about a week for measurements and trials and I thought I'd spend the time with Mom and Dad," I smile at her.

"A week?" Frase blurts in dismay and Sasha nods firmly.

"Quite right, Sergeant," she agrees, "He's still not completely recovered and it's a long time to be away from home. Not to mention the journey, I swear Peter Leavenworth is letting that plane rust out from underneath him."

That's not what Frase was worried about, though now he is -assessing me anxiously across the table. I try to look like I've regained all the weight I lost and my skin is the colour it used to be, but he's not fooled. Truth is some days I'm just so wiped out from the work that I fall asleep on the couch until the nightmare wakes me. Last night was the first time I really went back to sleep again and I know for a fact it was Frase and Dief that made the difference.

"Perhaps I could authorise Constable Stevens some leave time and he could accompany you," he says and I bristle straight away. I'm damaged, not fucking useless. Steve catches my eye and shakes his head solemnly, warning me not to explode in front of my Canadian mother who would probably wash my mouth out with soap. Fraser has vetoed his own idea almost in the next breath and I'm starting to think he'll be back in his old room tonight if he doesn't calm the fuck down.

"I'll go with him," Sasha decides and Mr Rose raises an eyebrow at her, "I've been curious about Chicago ever since I met you honey and you can show me around. I'd like to meet your mother, too. Just reassure her that we're taking care of you while you're recovering."

Mr Rose offers me a commiserating look that his wife misses. The relief on Fraser's face is too genuine for me to be mad; though I promise myself we're going to discuss this tonight. I don't want to be fighting to stand on my own. I saw the way he wanted to turn around when I stumbled last night and that is the way I want it to be between us. I want him to trust me to take care of myself - damage and all.

"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray..." Ben's voice calls me back from my own private musings and I blink before apologising. Sasha hates it when I drift off like that, though it's a habit I've had for a very long time.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said: have you called your parents yet?" Sasha reminds me and doctors a cup of coffee with chocolate before handing it over. Steve gets real hot chocolate and so does Frase - served in thick porcelain beakers like youd give to a kid. The oversized mugs are blue - just the right colour for cocoa mugs.

"Mom wasn't in so I left a message with the machine. I managed to get hold of Ma Vecchio and she'll check that Mom's checked her messages. I'll call again tomorrow and let them know you're coming - that way we can organise a bed for you," I sip the coffee and smile in thanks.

"Oh no, honey, I'll stay at a hotel," Sasha waves a hand and I bristle straight away. No mother of mine is staying in a hotel in a strange city when there is family that can put her up! From the look on her face I said that out loud and bury my red face in my mug. Mr Rose chuckles and gets up, collecting plates and heading for the kitchen. Sasha's smile is glowing and Frase pats my shoulder on the way past with his own load of plates. I can't find it in myself to be ashamed for too long and offer her a smile and a hand squeeze.

0o0o0o0

When we get back to the cabin, Frase goes straight to the fire, stirring it up and then standing with his back to it. He's rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb, and he's obviously freaking over something. I'm about to ask what's up when he makes a little frustrated noise.

"Ray...I want to apologise...I know you don't need a chaperone...it's just that I started thinking about how dangerous Chicago can be and you'd be there without me...you didn't call when you were hurt..."

The last part is said in a whisper and I realise he's afraid that I won't tell him if I get hurt again. His attitude at dinner is explained in a second and I go put my arms around him. He stands stiffly, not hugging me back, but I've had him once and can't survive alone any more. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him now.

"I promise you that I'll call," I tell him, "I'll never not call again."

Ok, so it's not that eloquent, but I'm misting up here and I want him to hear the truth. He looks me in the eye real close and then nods. His arms come up to pull me close and we stand like that for a moment. I hide my face in his neck and take a deep breath of Ben smell.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I whisper, "I just couldn't bear to be seen by anyone. Not until I was walking again. Not until I knew I wouldnt be a burden on them."

"You're not," he whispers back, "You'll never be a burden to me."

I just hang on tighter for a moment and then take a deep breath. He knows what I'm like now, in bed and out of it. I've gotta be fair about this.

"I know I'm no prize...you'd probably be better off sleeping in your own bed so I don't wake you up every time...I wouldn't mind...you need your sleep..."

"I wouldn't sleep at all," Frase says sternly and shakes me a little, "Stop it. Stop trying to make me treat you like you're damaged. You're not."

I snort at that, but a great weight lifts off my heart and I stop as ordered. Dief patters over and sits next to us, eyeing us expectantly. I turn my head enough to look back at him.

"What?" I ask and he thumps his tail on the floor, "Ben, your wolf's a pervert. I think he wants to watch us make out."

"He's not my wolf," Frase tells me straightaway, "I have nothing to do with him. If you hadn't jumped me at breakfast he wouldn't have got an eyeful and developed this habit."

"You weren't objecting at the time, and if I remember you jumped first," I tell him indignantly. A sappy smile takes over Frase's face and he caresses my face gently.

"Understood," is all he says and I kiss him. He kisses me back and we cuddle in close again. I'm getting tired though, and shift against him, balancing my weight on one leg. He manages not to hustle us to the nearest seat, choosing to take more of my weight on him and nuzzling my ear. He brings a bit of tongue action into it, doing something swirly that has me totally dizzy and more than a little unbalanced.

"Ben love," my voice is hoarse and totally out of my control, "Bed, now. Need you. Love you."

He takes his tongue out of my ear and kisses my nose instead.

"I'll walk Dief," he says, "I'll only be a few minutes."

He lets go and moves for the door, telling Dief that this is his only chance for the night and to just hurry up and come along. I head for the bedroom and strip off, hanging my clothes over the back of a chair that I keep there for that reason and start to change into sweats. After a moment the reason Ben really left hits me and I sit on the bed, hard.

He left so I could change, and get into bed without me seeing him. I'm still sitting there, thinking about that when he walks in himself. He hesitates when he realises that I'm sitting on the bed in my boxers, staring at my sweats, prosthesis still on. I think he's not sure if I meant for him to see me like this or not, but after a moment he decides to stay.

"Ray?" he voice is gentle and I look up. There is only concern in his eyes and a little fear. I try to think of a way to explain what I'm thinking.

"You can't make love fully dressed," I tell him and he misunderstands me, stripping down unselfconsciously. I smile at him and toss the sweats to one side. I can do this - it's not hard. He already knows I'm damaged, what can it hurt to see me as I am now? I loosen the bent coat hanger and slip it off, sliding it under the bed out of the way. I check that the crutches are in the right spot - I'm paranoid about not being mobile, I know it - and stand next to the bed to slip off my boxers as well.

My cock is totally limp and shrivelled as I cringe from my own nakedness. There are a few long scars on my body and of course the stump itself. Ben stands on the other side of the bed naked as well. I focus on his body instead, smiling at him and trying to act like this is no big deal. After the hospital he is the first person to see me naked.

He pulls back the blankets and gets into bed, sliding onto one side and holding them up for me in invitation. My resolve breaks and I slide in, pulling them up to cover me and closing my eyes in shame. His arms come around me and he rolls, pulling on me until I'm lying on top of him, skin to skin.

"I love you," his voice is solemn and quiet. I can feel all of me pressing into all of him, even the end of my leg and he's relaxed. His hands stroke my arms and back while I brace myself above him and look down at his face. It's calm and happy. We're good here - he's not gonna freak out on me.

"I love you," I reply, "So much Ben love."

He smiles and leans up for a kiss. This is good, I like his mouth and tongue and kiss him back, following his mouth as he puts his head down again. We kiss for a while; sharing breath while the bed warms up from our heat. Then his hands start getting adventurous and wander all over the place, touching and stroking and rubbing things. I get hard against him and he seems to like that, pressing up into my weight and rubbing himself on me. I send my own hands exploring and find out that he loves have his nipples played with. I feel his cock poking into me and start rubbing back.

We're puffing and panting and making stupid noises now. He splits his legs so I'm between them and I shift to line my cock up with his. We both groan at that and get a lot more excited. I try rubbing against him and he shoves his hips up demandingly. I can feel our cocks getting slick with pre come and sweat, which makes the rub more of a glide and I have to kiss him, hard. He kisses back just as hard and I wriggle a little on him, managing to get my legs braced so I can move a bit better. We're both thrusting into each other now and he's got both hands on my ass, playing with it and squeezing while I tease his nipples and kiss him.

"Ben love," I groan and speed up as the need in me builds. He takes a hand away from my ass to grip both our cocks together, grinding and squeezing them as we move. We both moan and start moving faster, the stupid noises getting louder and more urgent. I feel myself start to come and scream his name, driving into his body and hand hard, shuddering and shooting all over him. He goes still and stiff, then shudders hard and comes too, moaning my name softly.

We collapse onto the mattress and I move reluctantly to get off him. His arms and legs whip up and grab me, holding me in place with a growl.

"Ok," I gasp and settle onto his body, snuggling in and gloating in that way all men have. He's gloating too, with a huge sappy smile plastered all over his face. We kiss for a few minutes and then he sighs.

"I'll get a cloth," he pats my ass, and I slide off so he can get up. The blankets are tangled at the bottom of the bed and I leave them there, not wanting to mess them up. Ben comes back with a warm cloth and cleans himself in front of me, handling his limp cock suggestively before leaning over to clean mine.

"Tease," I growl and he smiles as I lie there passively while he handles my body. He kisses me slowly before going to put the cloth away and then climbing back into bed. I sit up to untangle the blankets and he puts out a hand. His face is uncertain, like he's worried about what he's about to say.

"Can I look?" he asks and I suck in a startled breath. I guess he was too busy before to pay attention to what I looked like. I nod in a jerky motion and lie back for him. He sits up and looks at the scars on my body, his eyes sad and troubled. When he sees me watching him he smiles and leans over to kiss them lightly, following them down my body and back up again. He shifts further down the bed and I tense as he looks at the stump, lying stiffly in an effort not to hide from him. He has a right to see this - after all we kinda own each other now. That doesn't make it any easier and when he leans forward my control breaks.

"Don't," my voice is all scared and soft and I hate myself for it. Frase just sits back up and pulls the blankets over both of us before pulling me into his side and wrapping his arms and legs around me.

"Sorry," he whispers sadly and I shake my head, moving to look him in the eye.

"We're good," I tell him and give him a kiss, "I'm just not ready for you to do that."

"Understood," he tells me and we settle down for some sleep.

0o0o0o0

At some point Dief must have come in, because it's him who stops me from falling out of bed screaming, and it's him who wipes the tears away - by licking them, yuk. I hide in his fur while he pins me down on the bed, and get it back together, calming down when I feel Frase's hand on mine in the fur and his warmth along my side.

"Shit," I say finally, "Sorry. Did I hurt you Ben love?"

"No," he kisses my ear and waits for me to pull my face outta Dief's neck, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I sigh and it's true. The shaking is almost gone and I can breathe - well almost normally cos Dief is no lightweight, "What a freak."

I sound disgusted with myself because I am - I hate being a head case and all weepy over a stupid dream.

"Stop that. You are not a head case," Frase musta been reading my mind, because he startles me and I jump. Dief adds his opinion with a growl and a chin to temple lick that has me squirming. Frase laughs at me and Dief looks smug as I push him off and get up, using the crutches and not even realising I'm naked until I get into the bathroom. I have to sit down in shock - Frase just got an eyeful of my damage and me and I didn't even care at the time.

It takes me a while to get it back together and Frase is not in the room when I come back. I wonder if he knows what I felt and get back into the bed, stowing the crutches and settling. He comes in with Dief and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, complete with little marshmallows. I sit up against the headboard and take the mugs, waiting until he's settled and Dief is curled up on my foot to pass the mug over. He's still naked and the sight of him strolling around in the altogether is comforting.

We drink it in silence and he takes the cups out to the kitchen to rinse them off before climbing back in with me and pulling me close. I snuggle in happily, and he starts petting me again like he did last night. The hot drink and his touch are sending me back to la la land and I manage to kiss him before crashing again.

We wake together in the morning and I kiss my man hello. He kisses me back and we get interactive with each other, squirming and wriggling and moaning until Dief gets up in disgust and stalks out. At that point we're too far gone to care and by the time we notice he's gone we're also heading back to sleep. A brief nap recharges me and I get up first, using the crutches deliberately, deciding that if Frase can stand to see it then I can stand to show it. He's gone when I get out of the bathroom and I dress quickly before gimping in to take over breakfast while he goes and gets cleaned up and dressed. We do the goofy grin thing over breakfast, and Frase has to rush out again because of our morning hello. I figure we should start waking up earlier and reset my alarm. I tidy the place up and head out to Bucker's to finish his library. I've got the walls and floor and ceiling and roof in, now I've got to build and install the bookshelves. He's got some really nice wood for me to use and at least I'll be inside today.

I'm halfway there - my leg is starting to drag a little in the snow - when Dief comes haring up the road, barking wildly. I freeze, and my heart actually stops beating for a moment.

"Dief, where's Frase?" I gasp as he cavorts around me happily. From the way he's behaving I know there's no trouble, but why isn't he on duty? Dief seems perfectly happy to continue to Bucker's cabin and I speed up as much as I can, falling a coupla times as I lumber through the snow, cursing my leg and the fact that neither one of us carries cell phones.

"Bucker - I need the phone!" I yell as I go up the steps and he meets me in the kitchen. He's frowning at Dief, who is frowning back, clearly offended by the American decore.

"Stony Creek RCMP, Sergeant Fraser speaking," he sounds calm and professional and I gulp in relief.

"It's me - what's with Dief? He turned up halfway to Buckers and I thought you'd been shot or something," the words tumble out of me and my voice is shaking in fear. Bucker grabs me and stuffs me into a kitchen chair, turning to holler for his wife and holding me in place as I listen to Frase's voice squawk from the phone that's somehow landed on the floor.

I can't breathe and I can't move - I can't even answer them when they try and talk to me. All I can do is cling to the sound of the squawking from the phone as Dief snaps to get Bucker away and then gets up and balances heavily on my lap. I slide my face into his fur and suddenly I'm breathing again, gasping for air and coughing in reaction. I'm shivering cos I'm somehow wet through and I don't remember much of anything until I get a huge surge of Ben smell and he's got his arms around me safely.

Funny enough, the phone is still squawking until Bucker picks it up and tells Steve he'll call back. The three of us rock, me in the chair with Dief in my lap and Frase kneeling beside me. Finally I can lift my face out of the fur and apologise to Bucker.

"I'm taking him back to the cabin. Please inform Constable Stevens that I won't be in today," Frase says when I'm done and Bucker nods.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ray," he tells me, like it's the end of the day and I'm on the way home after getting his library nearly finished, instead of freaking out in his kitchen like the damaged lump that I am. I nod and Dief slides to the floor. Frase gets me up - I'm too wobbly to do it myself - and we walk out with his arms around me. Normally I'd be protesting, and he can tell, cos he mutters for me' in my ear. I figure if my leaning on him makes him feel better I can handle that and lean hard, clutching his arms tightly.

Halfway home I make him stop so I can puke, and then I kinda zone out on him, cos I don't remember going inside or stripping down and getting into the bath with him. I haven't used the bath since I got here - too hard to get out of by myself, and the shower is quicker - but he gets the water almost broiling and slides us both in, sitting behind me and wrapping his arms and legs around me.

"Can you tell me what happened?" his voice is quiet and still, and kind of slides into the silence without disturbing it. I nod and sigh, leaning my head back so it's resting on his shoulder and I can see his face.

"My back up never came. I still don't know why. If it had...maybe..." I swallow and close my eyes when he stiffens up behind me in a bad way. I have to get this out so he understands, and if he speaks I'll never be able to finish it. He must know that cos he doesn't say a word.

"When Dief turned up all I could think was...where was your back up? Next thing I know I'm tearing through the woods and falling into slushy snow like an idiot. When I heard your voice..." I shiver and he leans down to kiss me on the temple, his arms and legs tightening for a moment.

"I had a few panic attacks in the hospital after I woke up - mainly that I was trapped and couldn't move cos they had all these machines and stuff on me. Suzy said it was normal and it would wear off, like the nightmares. I haven't had one since I moved up here."

"Was Suzy your psychiatrist?" his voice does that blend with the silence thing and I smile at him, thinking about how much I love him and how lucky I was to get Suzy as my technician.

"Nope," I stroke the arms holding on to me and wonder how he knows exactly what I need, "She's my tech. She built my leg and taught me how to use it and all. She lost her left one in the same place when she was eighteen. I could tell her anything, and she got in my face when I was being a jerk. I did that a lot."

"Understood," there's another kiss on my temple and we sit quietly in the water together.

0o0o0o0

Dief comes to me after supper that night. Frase took him outside for a quick walk and I'm in bed, reading and trying not to worry that the damn wolf will leave him alone again. I never realised how much I was depending on Dief until he let me down like that. He drops a rabbit next to the bed and whines.

"I know ya are," I tell him, trying hard not to worry about getting blood off the floor, "It's just that I need to know you've got his back now that I can't, Dief. I need you to stay with him unless we arrange otherwise. I'd love to spend the day with you, but I worry, ya know?"

He leans in for a petting, and I rub his ears lightly until Frase comes in.

"Dief caught a rabbit," I tell him and he exclaims in surprise, going around the bed to pick it up off the floor. He starts telling Dief off, though the animal's neck was broken, not torn out. I couldn't have handled the blood right now.

"I'd better hang this. We can dress it tomorrow," Frase leans over and kisses me, "Come and wash your mouth out Diefenbaker - you're not kissing Ray after putting this in your mouth."

Diefenbaker pulls away from me and heads on out at Frase's heels. I snuggle down in bed and listen to the two of them moving around out there. It's such a sharp contrast from the silence of before that I have to catch my breath and focus hard on my book. They finish their puttering and Dief comes in to snuggle with me on the bed while Frase banks the fire and turns out the lights. He pauses in the doorway to look at us, cuddled in the pool of light from the bedside lamp. I see a flash of white and realise he's smiling. I'm on my side facing the bathroom and Dief is curled up along my stomach.

"I'm sure that wolf packs don't sleep like this," he tells Dief, who pretends not to hear him. Over the years I've noticed that Dief can hear just fine when he needs to - like when someone's talking about going out for donuts. Frase just sighs and slides in behind me, leaning over to turn off the light and then settling down to spoon with me. He tangles his fingers with mine where they're tangled in fur and I sigh happily before closing my eyes.

"Sweet dreams, Ray," is the last thing I hear. I wish Ben love, I think but don't say it. If the panic attacks aren't as dead as I thought then the nightmares are here for the long haul.

Sure enough, Ben saves me from falling off the bed and Dief lets me hide in his fur as I shiver and shake through another aftermath, gasping for air and bawling my stupid eyes out. We do the bathroom-hot-chocolate-snuggle thing again and I sleep like a baby for the rest of the night, snuggled on Ben's chest like a baby with its Mama.

I manage to get half the library done before heading back to town to meet Frase and Steve at Sasha's. She's been in contact with Frase apparently, cos she gives me one of those looks and piles my plate high with lasagne.

"Hey!" I exclaim when I bite into it, "Just like Ma Vecchio's."

"I got the recipe from her over the phone the other day, as well as the biscuits," Sasha tells me, "I'll be staying with her when we go to Chicago, provided you look at the boiler, which is making a swashing noise again."

"Frannie's been fiddling with it," I growl, "She always forgets to reset the temperature controls."

"Indeed," Frase smiles, no doubt remembering some of our louder arguments in the basement while Ma Vecchio plied him with tea and baking. Sasha smiles too as he tells about the Vecchio family and the way they just adopted him almost straight away. I add a few stories - mainly about the kids in the household and Mr Rose chimes in with stories about their own kids - all grown and moved away to the city and bright lights. Steve adds his exploits with his twin brother and has us howling with laughter by desert, which is Mom's very own sweet potato pie. I get thirds of that and a whole one to take home.

Frase and Sasha volunteer to wash up and I take out my new carving knives to continue on with my carving of Dief. Steve and Mr Rose start talking about curling - of all things - and leave me to it. Something is going right for me tonight because not only do I get it finished, it actually looks like what I started out to make. He's in the traces, caught running forever with that flick of the paws I came to know so well. When Dief runs like this the sled is perfectly balanced, on a good surface and the dogs are eager. He ran like this for Ben, and once or twice for me. The post's team leader will run like this for me, all eager and balanced. I smile at the sculpture, rub some oil in and put it to one side to start on the next - a sculpture of Ben on guard duty. I've got just the right piece of wood for that and can see it clearly in my minds eye.

"Oh Ray," Ben's voice is soft as he picks up my sculpture of Dief. We left him in the post tonight as Sasha doesn't let wolves in the house and he sulks if he has to sit on the back step. At least in the post he'll be warm and fairly comfortable.

"Worked out ok, huh?" I grin up at him before concentrating on my new piece.

This one is flowing real smooth, and Mr Rose comes over to look at Dief before settling nearby again to watch me work and talk to Ben and Steve. Sasha comes in with slice, hot chocolate and coffee, the last of which she sits by my chair and then goes to snuggle with Mr Rose, joining in when she wants to. I let their voices flow past me like a river while the knife moves exactly the way I want it to for once. His boots come out neatly, then the strong legs and funny jodhpurs, followed by the serge and Sam Browne. He's standing with his hands behind his back, and I curl his hands a little, the way they used to after a long stretch at the duty. I couldn't believe it when I first saw him doing this. I'd been warned about it and decided not to tease him, just sat on the nearby bench and waited, telling him about the latest on the case we were working. Later, he told me that Vecchio used to get angry and yell when he didn't reply or blink in response.

I make his face impassive - the carefully held expression that was more like repose than a mask. The Stetson is last and I make sure to get it just right - Ben is very particular about how his Stetson sits. I rub some oil into that one as well and toss it over to Mr Rose before packing up the knives. He catches it without breaking verbal stride in the current debate about Canadian politics - I stay well out of that, even if I am naturalised to the country thanks to Turnbull.

He finishes making his point and then looks at the statue in his hand. Sasha notices he's not listening to her as she shoots him down and stops mid word when she sees what he has in his hand.

"It's the Sergeant!" her exclamation has Ben leaning over to get a better look and Steve crowds in too as I stand and stretch, moving away.

"It's incredible," Steve says quietly and I look back to see it standing on the coffee table, "You've captured Sergeant Fraser perfectly."

My Ben doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to - it's all there in his eyes.

Chapter Five

I suspect that Sasha has had a full briefing from my lover - and possibly Dief - as she doesn't seem too surprised when I jerk awake on the commercial airliner that is taking us to Chicago. She pets my hand and calls the steward for some coffee, which she laces with chocolate and talks to me about the terrible in flight movie she just saw. I get it together and manage to smile enough to reassure her that I'm ok. From the looks I'm getting from across the isle I was a bit too loud for privacy and I give them the old cop glare to send them on their way.

The airline seats are bad enough when you're fully mobile - for someone like me they're torture. I'm all too glad to be outta there and gimp as quickly as I can down the gangway and into the airport proper. My parents are waiting at the arrivals gate and Mom sweeps me into this huge hug, bawling her eyes out. I feel guilty that she was so worried about me and don't fuss as she hugs and babbles.

"You look better," my Dad says as she finally lets go. I smile at him and nod.

"Feel it too," I say, "There's some good people out there - it's helped."

I stick out a hand for one of those manly handshakes he prefers and he uses it to get me into a bear hug. He's shaking a little and I make a soft noise of surprise.

"I'm sorry," I blurt, and his grip tightens before he lets go and smacks me one upside the head. Not lightly either. I wince and rub the spot, but grin at him anyway.

"Don't you dare apologise for doing what you needed to," he growls, ignoring Mom's protests, "I take it this is our guest?"

"Yes sir," I nod, and he grins back, "This is Sasha Rose. She runs the general store in Stony Creek and feeds me twice a week."

Dad bows over her hand and takes her bag while Mom just plain hugs Sasha - still a little damp at the eyes. I follow Dad to the luggage claim and grab what's ours when it goes past. The damaged leg is in it's own bag with the collapsed crutches I still need to use at night and I sling that over my shoulder with my duffle and beat Dad's grab for Sasha's bag.

"I got it," I tell him lightly, "After framing three new extensions this month, these are nothing."

"I thought you were the mechanic out there," Dad protests and I grin at him.

"Man can't live on machine alone," I joke, "Actually its good work - stops me getting fat and lazy."

Both Mom and Sasha look pained at that. Yeah, so I'm underweight. I'm heavier than I used to be, and it's mainly muscle. Ben's started weighing me once a week and mapping out diets. It's no big deal to let him fuss and I kinda like the attention. I've learnt that not all attention is bad in the last week - in fact there are certain types of attention that parts of me will be missing a lot this week. I haul my mind kicking and screaming above my belt and follow Dad out to the car.

We go to the Vecchio's first, to drop Sasha off and let Ma have her crack at me. She does the Italian thing with lots of noise and hand gestures and I'm happy to see her too - though a little quieter about it. The boiler makes it's noise about four minutes after I walk in the door and I go have a look at it while she takes Sasha upstairs to the guest room and bathroom. Mom goes with them and I worry what they're saying to each other - please god I don't get sucked into some kind of shopping come sightseeing trip.

Dad comes downstairs to find me elbow deep in the boiler with my head in there as well. He passes tools when I ask and just generally watches me do my thing. I'm not worried - some of my more suspicious clients in Stony Creek used to do that as well. I can deal. I grin at him when the boiler comes online with a quiet noise and put the tools away - washing in the basement sink like always and he grins right on back.

"Damn, I guess you are a mechanic," he tells me and I cross my eyes at him before waving him up the stairs ahead of me. I don't need him watching me gimp my way up them. We stay to dinner at Ma Vecchio's with Frannie, Angie, Tony and the kids as well. I sit next to Sasha and pass dishes like always, slipping back into the 'family groove' that Frase and I both learned when these people adopted us. From Mom and Dad's reactions they've learned this groove as well and I wink at Sasha as she gets into an argument with Tony about the merits of hunting rifles - which Angie flatly refuses to let him try.

We leave fairly early in the evening when Mom catches me yawning behind my hand. Ma kisses me like I'm never coming back and then so does Angie and Fran. Sasha gets one in as well and I blush, making everyone laugh at me.

We're quiet in the car for the five-block ride to Mom and Dads. It's a good quiet - fairly rare for my family to be able to just sit together and be happy. I come back after putting my stuff in the spare room and sit down on the couch opposite them both.

"Um," I need to say so much, but it's kinda hard to know where to start. At the beginning I guess. I tell myself to just suck it up already and smile at them once before sitting straight - like I used to when I was in trouble.

"I'm sorry for cutting ya both off after the … whole big mess. I wasn't thinking right," I start with the easy stuff, "I know ya both wanted to help, but I needed some time."

"It's ok, Stanley," Dad smiles a little stiffly, but it's better than a frown and I'll take it, "We spoke to a support group and they said it might take some time for you to adjust."

I hate the idea that they've been talking to strangers about me behind my back, but shut up about it before I start an argument.

"And…I might make a bit of noise tonight. I don't sleep well. Just leave me be. I'm good," I get the warning out in a rush, using the old don't-fuck-with-me tone that always works. Mom nods, her eyes wide, and Dad looks away, his lips now pressed in a thin line. I guess neither of them wants it really rubbed in that their son is a head case and damaged to boot. To change the subject I ask about Anthony and Marge and their kids. I haven't stayed in touch with my brother at all - we never got along and his wife hates me. Old Tony did what Dad wanted and chose a white-collar career and got him a white-collar wife to match. The cop with the experimental hair just didn't fit into the picture. Dad had only just started talking to me a year or so before the…incident… and I tend to keep my head down around him a bit. I guess after the grief I've seen Frase suffer from his Dad I don't want to lose mine the same way. Although by the end of this little visit I probably will have - I'm gonna tell them both about Frase and me before I go. I'm not ashamed to be in love and I want them to know how happy I am. I figure if they know my lover is with me it will take some of the anxiety off for them. And if they want to disown me again then they can. I've learnt how to survive.

Anthony and Marge get us through another half hour and the grandkids a full hour after that. I'm interested enough to pay good attention, and Mom hauls out the photo album, sitting next to me and pointing things out. They spent last Christmas with Anthony seeing as how I'd dropped off the face of the earth - in reality I'd spent Christmas day at the post, tuning all the engines I could find and then taking the dogs for a good hard run. The Christmas photos were pretty funny really, though I doubt my Mom thought so - Marge was in a few, trying so hard to look dignified in a silly cracker hat. There were a few of the grandparents and kids - all of them very relaxed with goofy grins and a few rabbits ears behind heads - as well as the more formal parents and kids. Every time Marge appeared with her 'trying to have fun' face I had to bite down on a smile. Dad caught me at it and nodded once, his own grin carefully hidden. Looks like I wasn't the only one who thought Marge was a bit stuck up.

Then Mom caught me not-yawning again and sent me packing off to bed. I got ready like always, making sure that the crutches were where I could get them easily and the good leg was under the bed where I could reach it. I lay back and hugged the spare pillow to me, sliding cautiously into sleep.

0o0o0o0

It didn't help. I woke up when I fell off the freaking bed and only managed to keep my yell down by pure dumb luck. I missed the furry weight that squeezed the breath out of me, and the strong hand that hauled me back into the world. Only two weeks of this and I was accustomed to it - couldn't do without it - wanted it so bad I had to tell myself to be a man and quit with the crying. I hauled the crutches out and got up, moving as quietly as I could to the bathroom. A nightlight lighted the landing and I scowled at it on the way past. I hate being treated like a kid - even if I am having nightmares that leave me a quivering heap on the floor.

Business done, I go back to bed and switch on the bedside lamp. There's no way I'll get back to sleep tonight and I haul out the book I packed just in case. I look up later when there's a tap at the door and Dad sticks his head around it, looking disappointed that I'm awake.

"You all right son?" he asks in a soft voice and I nod, drawing my legs up and waving him in. I gesture for him to sit on the bed and he perches in that way he has.

"I didn't wake you did I?" I ask quietly, knowing that Mom is probably still asleep. He shakes his head and spends a moment looking at me. Then he slaps the mattress and gets up again.

"Come downstairs and I'll give you a game of chess," he steps back and I put the book down obediently, grabbing the crutches and getting up. He looks a little uncomfortable and I pause. I guess this is the first time I've let him see me dependent on anything to move - and it's all down to Frase that I can. The last time he came to the hospital and saw me in a wheelchair I locked myself in a bathroom and wouldn't come out until he left.

"Would you rather I put the leg on?" I ask him awkwardly, "It must be weird having to look at me…"

"No! You are not weird," he snaps, "I just remembered the hospital…"

"Yeah, I was a real shit," I pull a face, "Sorry Dad. I wasn't coping. I am now, though. I'm good, which is better than before. I figure I can get back to being great again. I'm gonna try."

"You do that," his growl doesn't match his eyes, which are all shiny and proud looking. I grin back hesitantly and sit on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath I roll my sweats up, exposing myself to him and putting the bent coat hanger on with shaky hands. I roll the leg of my sweats down as quickly as I can and then take in a few deep breaths. His hand ghosts onto my shoulder and he bugs out - heading down the stairs. I feel like I've run a marathon, and I think I may have won it - or at least come a close second.

There's coffee at the chessboard by the time I can get down there and a bag of M&M's next to it. I doctor my cup while Dad makes the first move and we settle in to playing. We're quiet for an hour or so, and then the neighbours get up, idling their car in the drive for a while before leaving.

"Your Mom will be up soon," Dad says when the car noises are gone, "They always wake her up with their damn car, and she usually wakes me. I wouldn't have noticed you were up if I hadn't had to drain the lizard myself."

"Does it bother you? I could go talk to them tonight about parking on the street or something," I push my empty cup to one side and move my knight, which he takes. I grin and move my bishop to checkmate him.

"I'm more bothered by this," he growls, scowling at the board and then me, "Nah, you don't have to talk to them. It's cheaper than an alarm clock."

"Ray?" Mom's voice comes down the stairs and I grin at Dad before getting up and heading to the bottom of them. I want to be out of reach for a moment here.

"Down here Mom," I call. I just know what she's gonna say next…

"What are you doing down there?" Score! She appears in her robe and starts down the stairs.

"Beating Dad at chess," I tell her blandly and she laughs while Dad yells. I grin and hug her good morning - one of those strong hugs that I used to give her back in high school when I was growing. She squeaks like she used to and I put her down.

"Breakfast," she swats my arm and Dad takes our coffee cups out to the kitchen while I go to help Mom.

I'm meeting Suzy today and Mom tells me that she and Sasha and Ma Vecchio are going sightseeing and shopping. I breathe a sigh of relief that I don't have to go, and tell them that I might drop in on the 2-7 after my appointment so I can say hello to Welsh and Dewey. Dad offers to chauffer me around and Mom tells him that he's driving the women folk. I avoid his eye and he grumbles under his breath for a while.

They drop me at the hospital where Suzy works and I gimp on in to the right area, checking in with the receptionist and sitting down in one of the chairs that line the lobby area.

"Ray!" Suzy calls before I zone out in boredom, and I grin at her. She hasn't changed - she's still all energy and grace, moving quick and confident with only the slightest limp to marr her walk. I feel heavy and slow beside her, and she frowns at me as I gimp along into her office.

"What the hell happened?" she's on the little stool and raising the table on its pneumatic legs in seconds, rolling up my trousers to look at the bent coat hanger and the suction cup.

"Walked into an animal trap," I shrug, trying not to remember who might have done it instead of me, "Jarred it a little I guess."

She's got the fake off and is poking around down there while I stare out the window, trying not to notice her hands touching me so intimately. It always took me a little while to relax when she was working on my stump or fake leg and she ignores me like she always used to. It's comforting to know that the person working on you has dealt with the same injury themselves and won't embarrass you with pity - is in fact more likely to stick the new leg where the sun don't shine if you whine about stuff.

"More than a little," she says after a moment, "I've got swelling and chafing down here, and a fair amount of bruising. I'm putting you on crutches for a while - you need to give it a chance to rest."

"Aww Suze, can't I use the spare?" I protest, "I'll ice it or something at night. I hate hopping."

"No, you can't use the spare," she tells me severely, "Where are your crutches?"

"Back at home with the folks," I sigh, "Let me use the spare to get home, then."

"Like hell," she fixes me with that look that meant I was being a stupid whiney loser and needed to suck it up, "I know you. You'll conveniently forget our discussion as soon as you get out the door. I'll lend you some from here for while you're in Chicago. Show me the one that got caught in that trap."

I open the bag and pass it over, shivering at the bent and scratched surface that was all I had for a leg now. She does too when she sees the damage and gets up to hug me - pulling her professional face back on after a moment. That's comforting too.

We do the whole measure and prod thing and then she pins my jeans up so I won't trip. The elbow crutches are brought in and she adjusts them in seconds, handing them over and smiling at me.

"It's only until I get the new one made and retool the spare. I think it's a little unbalanced and I want to check it over. I'll rush it for you, ok? You'll be mobile again by Friday, promise," her eyes hold mine and I nod. I hate being gimpy - being crippled like this is worse. She knows that, but her eyes remind me that she's living with the same thing and is still man enough to handle it. We hug and I head for the taxi rank.

0o0o0o0

After a bit of thought I go to the 2-7 anyway. They all know what happened and they can either deal with it or not. I'm not gonna hide - Frase would be disappointed in me if I did, though he'd never say anything. A few heads turn downstairs as I hop on in and I ignore it unless they say hello to me.

Welsh is standing in his office door when I get to the entrance of the bullpen and he grins when he sees me. Dewey comes on over and does the macho hello thing, while not looking any lower than my shoulders. I figure he needs to do what he does to cope and don't get upset. We head over to Welsh, who knows better than to come to me like I can't make it or something and we go into his office.

"So, how's life as a snow man?" Welsh grins at me and I grin right back.

"Fine," I tell him, "I've got enough work to pay the bills and keep me busy. Frase got himself promoted and transferred to the Creek when we lost Sarge, so I've got someone to watch my back if I need it."

"Good," Welsh nods, "Constable Turnbull did tell us that Fraser had moved to the post at Stony Creek. How did the position become available?"

So I tell them all about the pipe line crew and Mary Sue, the shootout and the aftermath. We drink coffee while he tells me about what's happened at the 2-7 lately and any cop buddies I might have had. I talk and nod and meanwhile remind myself not to come out at the station - these guys might be cool about me loving Frase, but I don't want to find out if they're not.

After a while I have to head out to Ma Vecchio's - who has apparently offered to host dinner for the week we're here. Dad's asleep in an armchair in the front room and my three mothers are in the kitchen, cooking and gossiping and apparently trading 'Ray' stories.

"Ray! What happened?" Mom is on me in a flash, and I ward her off carefully. I don't need coddling, and my balance can be damn shaky on these things.

"Suzy says I need to give it a rest for a week, and took my…gear away. It's no biggie, Mom. What's for dinner, Ma?"

Ma Vecchio hits me with the Italian version of the mommy glare, but tells me, and even lets me taste test the sauce. Sasha pulls out a chair with a pointed look and I roll my eyes before sitting down. I listen to them talking with half an ear, while I let my mind drift. I taught myself to do this back when I was quartered with Sasha and Mr Rose. It's as good as sleeping, but without the nightmares, though Sasha hates it when I drift off.

I come back when someone puts a cup of coffee in front of me and three hands appear with chocolate to doctor it. That makes me laugh and they grin sheepishly at each other.

"So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" I ask and Sasha tells me they're going shopping and so am I.

"You can carry the bags," she tells me and Ma Vecchio bristles for a moment before Mom gives her the significant look. If I ever want coddling, Ma Vecchio is the one to go to - she's such a generous soul that she wants to care for everyone. At the same time she knows when she's being conned and will kick your butt as often as not.

"What sort of shopping?" I groan, "I'm too weak to carry heavy weights, got a note from my doctor."

Sasha snorts and plunges right back into the Ray tales - this time about how I lifted the sled out of a snow bank with her in it. It sounds pretty daring, but wasn't half as exciting as she tells - I sneezed and ran us into the damn thing in the first place.

"It wasn't Chicago's fault," I tell her firmly, "I sneezed and threw us way off balance."

"Chicago?" Mom asks with a frown and I grin.

"He's the lead dog on my team. He's pretty smart - almost as smart as Dief. He's the colour of dirty snow - and in fact that's what his name meant, but I couldn't pronounce it. What I could say sounded like Chicago, so that's what he's called now."

Sasha rolls her eyes - she just doesn't like Dief that much and we've agreed to disagree on that. Ma Vecchio beams - she loves Dief as well as his owner and we're heading for shaky ground so I ask Ma if I can call home for a moment, promising to pay for the call. She gets a thoughtful look on her face and nods. It's not until the phone is actually ringing that I realise I called Stony Creek home instead of here. Then my call is answered.

"Stony Creek RCMP…"

"It's me Ben," I interrupt, to save him from the mouthful, and he stops straight away.

"Ray!" his voice is warm and happy, instead of polite and efficient and I grin stupidly, "Where are you calling from?"

"Ma Vecchio's - do you remember the number?" I ask and he tells me he does before hanging up and I drop the phone back into place, shifting so I can lean on the table it rests on. I get it on the first ring and tuck it into my neck, as if it's his face resting there instead. My stupid body is missing him so much that it's the best I can do.

"Are you hurt?" Ben's panicked voice sounds in my ear and for a moment I can't think. I didn't want this - I knew that coming back without him had him worried, and I'd promised to call, so of course he'd…I pull it together to answer the frantic silence on the other end of the line.

"No," I blurt, "I'm fine. It's not that sort of call, it's ok."

He takes a shaky breath and I drop my voice to a low tone. I've already figured out the effect of this on his body and I know it works over the phone when I hear his chair creak because he's leaned back in it.

"Take it easy, Ben. I'm good here. I went to see Suzy today and she's making me a new leg and rebalancing the spare. I'll be on my way home by the end of the week."

"If she's got your spare…" Ben trails off and then sighs, "You did hurt yourself, I knew it."

"Some bruising only - and the spare isn't balanced properly. We musta made a mistake in the measurements. The first coupla years have teething difficulties, 'cos I've got to adjust. I promise you I'm ok. Do ya wanna talk to Mom or Sasha?"

"No, I believe you," Ben's voice is calm now, and accepting. I sigh in relief and we change the subject. He tells me that Mary Sue is working in the post as a civilian assistant at Steve's suggestion and that her first day was very trying. Apparently Dief scared her by jumping up when she came in to check her out. Frase tells me that Dief is being very vigilant about who my Mountie comes in contact with and I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm more than a little nervous about him while I'm away, though I know full well that I couldn't back him up if I was there, being a civilian and damaged and all.

I tell him about Sasha and the marathon-shopping trip the mothers have decided to drag me on, and about the 2-7. I'm going to the consulate tomorrow to see Turnbull and promise to pass on Frase's regards to his old colleague. The Ice Queen is still there as well and I promise not to say anything rude to her.

After a few more minutes I whisper that I love him and we hang up. It's a wrench to let go of his voice like that and I take a few deep breaths, telling myself not to be so damn needy. When I've got it under control I go check on Dad.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Six

Rather than run the risk of waking Dad or Mom again with the aftermath of that night's nightmare, I get dressed and go down to the garage. I'm pretty sure Dad has a couple of knives out there among his carpentry tools and I spend a while putting a decent edge on them before fishing out some scraps of wood and going back into the kitchen. I spread one of Dads old newspapers on the table to catch the shavings and pick up one of the lumps I brought in with me. Its colour reminds me of Chicago, so I start with his head.

By the time Mom and Dad come down I've carved the whole team, running in the traces, and I'm finishing the sled. I didn't see anything to finish them with in the garage, and make a note to get something from a hobby store during today's shopping spree.

I hate going out in public without the coat hanger, but the end of my leg does feel better when I press my hands to it, and the bruising is going away. It took me a year to get used to checking and touching it - I was in Canada by then and too scared of frostbite to skimp the checking. I didn't need to lose anything else. I hate being stared at, though one of my 'mothers' is usually there to step between me and the starer - unless they're all in the changing rooms or something.

Mom and Dad come over to the table and pick up the dogs, exclaiming in low voices and asking me their names. I tell them about the team and the quirks of each dog as I finish the figure at the back of the sled. It's me in my mukluks and parka, grinning like a maniac like I was the day I figured I could still do this. Dad touches the sled with careful fingers and then collects all the pieces up, walking out of the kitchen while I clear up my mess and wipe the table down.

When I go past the front room, Dad is arranging the dogs and sled carefully on the bookshelf next to the television. He's moved Anthony and Marge's wedding photo to do it and I bite down on a grin.

The phone rings while I'm upstairs and I listen to hear if it's Frase calling for me. It's not - Mom or Dad would have yelled up the stairs and I finish my shower, getting dressed again and hopping slowly down the stairs to join them for breakfast. I found a pot of gel in the bathroom and did my hair the old way, slipping into a loud shirt for the hell of it and grinning at the result.

"Who was on the phone?" I ask Mom as she hands my coffee to Dad. He drops in the regulation chocolate with a glare that says he's doing it under protest, and stirs for me while Mom answers.

"Your brother and his family have come down for a surprise visit," she smiles fondly, "They spent last night in a hotel and will get here this afternoon."

"I'll go stay at the Vecchio's then," I tell her and she frowns, "They'll want the room, and Ma Vecchio won't mind if I crash on her couch or something."

"The hell you will," Dad tells me, "They've come to see you and can stay in a hotel or something. In fact I'd rather they did, Barbara - that way Stanley will be able to rest when he needs it."

"Fine," Mom agrees, "The children are a little noisy sometimes."

"I can handle the noise," I protest, "The Vecchio's are plenty noisy!"

Mom smiles fondly and ruffles my hair.

"I know honey," she tells me, "But I don't want to miss any time with you. I don't get to see you as often as I do Tony and the kids."

I calm down and nod, letting her and Dad plan a barbeque dinner, and listen as she decides to invite the Vecchio's and Sasha over as well. Before I know it, she's got the guys from the 2-7 over as well.

"How about Turnbull and the Ice Queen? I'm going to see them today," I say a little sarcastically, and Mom ignores the tone to agree with the suggestion. I guess the whole protest about the noise and me needing my rest goes out the window, as the daily shopping expedition becomes a supply run. Dad and I sidle out the door with a list, which he tells me he'll get while I go to the Consulate and issue my invitations.

Frase's replacement is on guard duty and I hobble by with a polite good morning to him. I could never ignore the guys when they were on duty, though I made sure I didn't say anything that required a reply. Turnbull jumps to his feet and rushes forward to pump my hand when he sees me. He's loudly welcoming me and asking after my health and Frase and Dief and Stony Creek when the Ice Queen comes storming out of her office to see what's going on.

"Inspector," I nod to her astonished face, "You're looking well."

"Thank you Mr Kowalski," she stammers and manages not to insult me by returning the compliment. I know what I look like.

"I came to say hello, while I was in town. My Mom and Dad are having an informal gathering this evening and would be pleased if you'd both attend," I roll out the formal language with style, making my voice as much like Frase's as possible. Turnbull starts wringing my hand and thanking me again and I get the nod of approval from the Ice Queen as well.

Dad picks me up an hour later - thank god, 'cos Turnbull's installed me in the dining room and is peppering me with questions about the town and the post and Frase and god knows what else. The back of the car is full, and I resign myself to opening doors and not helping because a guy on crutches isn't much use at carrying things. I unpack instead, dragging bags of food to the right area and then unpacking them as quickly as Dad and Mom carry them in. Sasha and Ma Vecchio turn up and closet themselves in the kitchen to start an orgy of cooking. Dad and I make a sandwich run at lunchtime - knowing full well if we asked the cooks for something we'd get our heads bitten off. Instead we get praised for our 'thoughtfulness' and a list of chores to do.

I clean the bathroom while Dad vacuums the house and both of us straighten the front room up. I take the opportunity to oil the carvings and put the dogs in the right running order, with Chicago flicking his paws out front and his mate Nanuk frisking along at the rear.

Welsh turns up with a police van full of trestle tables and benches, as well as the long rolls of paper that stand duty as table cloths. You roll out the amount you need, cut it off the roll and tack it to the table - no muss, no fuss. Dewey pulls up a few minutes later and they start hauling things out into the yard with Sasha coming out to help. I start with the roll and tacks, pinning it down as neatly as possible and covering Mom and Dad's picnic setting as well. I also fire up the grill so the coals will be ready by the time everyone else arrives.

Fran, Tony, Angie and the kids roll up next with bowls of salad and buttered rolls, then Turnbull and Thatcher arrive with some pastries for desert - which Mom thanks them kindly for and Ma Vecchio takes charge of. Dad cranks up the stereo and the kids haul out their toys, so it's a joyful racket going on when Anthony and Marge arrive with their two kids. I open the door, 'cos I was inside at the time and Anthony pales a little at the sight of me on crutches.

"Hey, bro," I say, pretending not to notice, "Come on in. Hello, Marge. How was the trip?"

"Fine," Marge gushes, "How are you dear?"

I manage not to roll my eyes and smile instead. Her kids are trying hard not to stare, they musta been given some huge kind of lecture about it all. I hop backwards to let them all in and use the end of a crutch to nudge the door shut.

"I'm good," I shrug, "Everyone's out back - it's turned into a bit of a shindig out there. I'll let Mom know you're here if ya wanna drop yer stuff in the spare room."

I head off without waiting for a reply, and hear the kids start whispering straight away while Anthony and Marge try to shut them up. Something in my face musta tipped Mom off 'cos she kisses me on the cheek and goes on inside before I can say anything.

"Uncle Ray! Come and play with us!" the girls call and I head on over to toss the ball with them. Turnbull comes and joins in with us, making the girls giggle. They like his red uniform and touch it whenever they can. They call him Constable and salute when he tells them to answer their mother - who is calling them for dinner.

Thatcher and Sasha are in a quiet little session with Welsh at one table and Tony and Dewey are shooting the breeze together too. I go sit with Ma Vecchio and help her put the last touches on the buffet. Anthony has joined Dad and Turnbull at the grill and Mom is chatting with Marge, Frannie and Angie. Marge looks a little out of place in her travelling costume of neat skirt, blouse and low heels. At least she left the pearls at home. Her kids are sitting neatly on the bench, staring at the Vecchio's who are chasing each other around and laughing in a game with no discernable rules.

All it would take for the day to be perfect would be Dief and Frase sitting next to me.

0o0o0o0

Suzy calls me a day early to come get my legs and I go happily. Anthony is being an ass about the damage and I'm ready to spear him with a crutch and dangle him off the garage roof. Marge fawns and gushes all over the joint and her kids are staring at their uncle the freak from the corners of their eyes - I've even caught them peering at me from around the edges of doors.

Take the day after the party. We're in the kitchen and bro and family have arrived early to share breakfast with us. Dad's moaning about the state of his lawn and how the guests have trampled it all flat, and Mom starts in about how it was too long to start with.

"Pay me a fiver and I'll mow it for you," I tell Dad, just to shut him up. He grins and digs around for his wallet while Mom laughs and says she'd pay a fiver to watch. The fact that they know me well enough to understand what I'm doing gives me a warm fuzzy. I'm about to make some dirty crack about voyeurism that I hope the kids won't pick up on when Marge does her 'oh, but you couldn't possibly do that - Anthony will do it for you Dad' speech.

"It was a joke, Marge," I tell her in a tired voice, "The most I'll be doing is checking the mower over for Dad before he uses it."

"Good thing too - it's getting hard to start," Mom nods while Anthony shoots Marge a look and the kids snigger. Dad rolls his eyes and goes out to get the mower and tools - bringing the lot out into the yard. I get a box to sit on and start stripping the mower down while Anthony goes to get changed into some old trousers of Dad's. He comes out to watch me with the engine.

"So…how are things? Do you need anything?" he asks me and I shake my head.

"Nah. Welsh got me a sweet deal when I retired - the PD covers about three quarters of my medical bills, and the work I do back home supplements the pension I get as well," I clean a spark plug carefully and set it aside.

"I thought…Mom said that you had a…"

"I stepped into a bear trap," I give him an out, "Better me that someone with a real leg, right? It's in the shop at the moment."

That ends the discussion pretty effectively. I get the mower back together and go inside while Anthony mows the lawn. Sasha comes over for lunch and we decide to take the kids to the zoo for the afternoon, and have dinner out.

To avoid the question of the damage, Dad has got into the habit of dropping everyone off before he goes to park the car. I qualify to park in the disabled spaces, but no one wants to rub it in. Marge, of course, doesn't figure that out until she's asked why I don't use the disabled space, and Mom shoots her a nasty look. Marge goes red and shuts up. I feel kinda sorry for her - she's got no clue about the way family learns when to shut up and when to speak. Mom and Dad have sorta been taking their cues from me and I love them for it. Anthony and Marge are too blind to pick up on that. They only see the damage, not me.

The kids are the next ones to stuff it up. I'm tired by dinnertime and they want to go to the twilight feeding session that's being advertised. Mom's shooting me little looks and Sasha's sticking close, so Dad suggests we spilt up. Anthony and Marge can take the kids to the session and we'll go home. He tries to cover for me with the 'grandpa is getting old' speech, but Anthony junior pipes up in a clear voice with:

"No you're not - it's 'cos Uncle Stanley is crippled."

I stare at him and then put my head down and get the fuck away from the kid before I suggest we use him as lion chow or something worse. I hear voices raised in the background as I hobble away and try not to listen. Sasha's raised her voice as well as Mom, while Anthony yells at his kids and Marge yells at Anthony.

Eventually they catch up to me at the entrance and we all head for the car in silence. Sasha kisses me goodnight when we get to the Vecchio's and we don't go in. Suzy's message is on the machine and I'm so relieved that Mom talks me into a cup of hot chocolate before bed. I haven't been sleeping well, and I know I'm not gonna get any tonight, but I go to bed, and go through the motions. The nightmare hits me straight away and I wake up bawling my damn fool head off. Mom comes in and sits on the bed, petting me and shushing like she did when I was a little kid. I calm down after a while and eventually persuade her to go back to bed. When I'm sure she's asleep I get dressed and go downstairs.

I carve for a while, and then start a chess game with myself. Eventually I stretch out on the couch with a book. They find me there hours later, almost finished. Mom comes and gives me a kiss and Dad sits in the armchair nearby silently. I appreciate the support. They both come in to the doctors with me - we called Sasha to let her know where we'd be, and it wasn't until we got home that I realised they hadn't called Anthony - and Suzy gave me a questioning look. I nodded and brought them into the office with me while she did the fitting.

They asked a few questions - shooting me anxious looks, but I figured they had a right to know what was going on and it saved me the embarrassment of dealing with it by myself. Sasha answered like she does me, and even showed them hers so they could compare things. She sat next to me and held my hand while they looked at us and I squeezed her good and hard in thanks.

I gimped on out of that office, feeling comfortable for the first time in ages. The way the coat hanger is designed you can slip your boot or shoes over it and the gimp is the only thing to tell people they're looking at a damaged guy. Mom and Dad were smiling and relieved about it all - which was all to the good for me. We picked up Sasha and Ma Vecchio - squeezing into the car in a noisy happy tangle and headed over to Mom's for lunch. The idea was to go for one last great shopping expedition today and with me back on my foot and coat hanger, I was chalked down to carry loads and fetch things. Dad was coming to offer emotional support and Mom said quietly that she was going to ask Marge and Anthony and the kids along too. The open-air markets were on today and Sasha was real curious about them.

Anthony junior sulked through an apology while his little sister stared at the leg that I'd apparently grown overnight. Marge asked why we hadn't called - they'd been waiting outside the house for a coupla hours and she sounded a bit miffed by it all.

"My appointment ran over, we thought we'd be back sooner," I try to smooth it over and Marge just sniffs. Mom gets a glint in her eye and I head her off at the pass by telling Anthony I need a lift to the Consulate on the way to the markets. I've got the carvings I did in a little box for Turnbull - both the dog teams and sleds in full gear, with me and Frase on the back like always. Anthony takes that meekly and Marge sits in the back with the kids. They pull up and gawk at the guy on sentry duty, but I gimp past real quick, muttering an apology for them as I do. Turnbull is ecstatic in his thanks and Thatcher comes on out again to see what the rumpus is this time. Her eyes go all soft when she sees Frase on the back of his sled and I swallow down a moment of jealous possessiveness. She might want him, but I've got him and it's gonna stay that way.

We meet up at the markets and at Ma Vecchio's suggestion we split into groups. I go with Ma and Sasha and Dad and Mom go with Anthony and Marge. I hear voices start up as we split up and sigh in defeat.

"Ah Caro," Ma Vecchio pats my arm, "Some people just cannot bear differences. Love the ones who do, and tolerate the rest of them."

"I do, Ma," I tell her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, which startles happy tears in her eyes, "Believe me I do."

I peck Sasha on the cheek too, and the next thing I know they've both got an arm through mine and I'm escorting them along the aisles. It's enough to make my hair stand on end without the gel, though I don't say that to anyone. We spend a pleasant afternoon, wandering around and poking fun at some of the strange and unusual things the stall owners think will sell. I buy them both a gaudy bead bracelet and fasten it on like it's a diamond tennis bracelet or something while they gush and carry on. I bought one for Mom and Marge and little Samantha as well, and hand them over when we meet up for dinner.

0o0o0o0

The last breakfast is a quiet one. I'm sorry to go, but at the same time I'm eager to see my lover again. And this is my opportunity to tell them about Frase and me. I didn't tell him I was gonna do this, because I didn't want him to worry. I'm not gonna lie to my folks, though, and I don't want them to start thinking I'm spending my life empty and alone up there at the Creek.

We're lingering over the coffee, just sitting kinda quiet with the sun shining in through the window when I take a deep breath and sit up properly. Mom looks at me and Dad leans back, his eyes on my hands. It's my old 'I'm in trouble posture' and they react to it the way they always have.

"I've got something to tell you both," I begin in a quiet voice while my heart tries to beat its way out through my chest. Christ, this is hard, and for a moment I wanna pike on the whole deal. I don't want to lose them, but I don't want to lie to them either.

"There's no easy way to say this," I take a deep breath and stare at my coffee dregs, "I'm kinda married again."

"What?!" Mom yelps, "Why didn't you tell us? Who is she? Why didn't she come with you?"

"Calm down Barbara," Dad says, cutting her off. He's eyeing me off now, and I think maybe he knows there's more to it than me living full time with a woman without first seeing a preacher.

"Let the boy get a word in," Dad continues and Mom fixes me with a 'spill it' glare that has me sitting up even straighter.

"I didn't want to ruin things if you took it hard," I tell them both, "But at the same time I'm not gonna lie about this to anyone. I'm not ashamed of this 'cos we love each other and what we have is real."

Mom's clued in too now, and she takes Dad's hand like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop right on them. My guts twist up, but I force myself to breathe deeply and not fidget. I'm not gonna stare at the table in shame either, but it takes all I've got to look them in the eye for the next part.

"Frase and I are a couple," I pray no one asks a couple of what, "And we're happy together. I wanted you to know that I got someone who loves me, damage and all, and I'm not alone any more."

Dad's lips twist, but otherwise they both stay still, saying nothing. I nod to myself and look back down at the table.

"He couldn't leave the post, so I was gonna come down alone until Sasha decided to come with me instead," I tell the wooden grain, "We wanted to invite you both for Christmas this year, but I'll understand if you've already made plans with Anthony and Marge."

There's a bit more silence, so I get up and go to the sink to put my mug away. A glance at the clock and I tell them I'll call a cab for the airport. This breaks through the shock and they tell me not to be stupid. I go up for my bags while Dad gets the car out and Mom fixes the kitchen up.

If Sasha notices the quiet when we get inside at the Vecchio's she doesn't say anything. Ma makes me promise to write more often, and Frannie gives me a letter for Frase. I hope it's not a marriage proposal or anything and we head on out after yet another round of coffee and cakes.

I'm wired now from the silence and the lack of sleep this week and the coffee, so I'm a bit restless, which earns me a pat on the leg from Sasha. She figures I'm thinking about the flight, but I'm more worried about my folks. I give her a grin for thanks and get out at the airport quickly. Mom and Dad decide to come with us while we check in and then walk to the gate. Sasha goes to get some magazines for the flight and comes back with a bag of M&M's as well, which I take with a grin. Our flight is called and Sasha gets hugged and thanked and promises to write and call. She heads inside and I look at them awkwardly. Mom makes a tsking sound and hugs me hard.

"Be happy," she whispers in my ear and I nod, swallowing hard and hiding my face in her hair for a minute. She wouldn't lie to me about forgiving me for falling in love with a man. We don't lie in our family, which is why Dad and I didn't talk for so long.

"You too," I tell her in a husky voice and glance at Dad uncertainly. He hugs me as well and pats my back in silence for a moment.

"We'll let you know about Christmas," he tells me gruffly, not meeting my eyes and I nod. It's the best I can hope for, and I head into the plane with them watching me gimp along. Sasha holds my hand for most of the flight and I'm too grateful for contact with another human being to fuss.

"You were brave to tell them," she says when we're landing in Canada, and I gape at her. She smiles and leans over to close my mouth with a gentle finger, "Matt and I figured it out the first time we saw you two together, honey. It's ok, we won't say anything."

I nod and sniff hard, getting it back under control. She pats my hand and we get up to fight out of the plane and head for the hanger where Peter Leavenworth is waiting to take us home.

0o0o0o0

Frase and Dief are standing by the jeep when we land, with Mr Rose next to their truck as well. I get off and grab the luggage, walking Sasha over first to deliver her to her man, doing it solemnly. He accepts his charge just as seriously while she's telling us off as a bunch of cavemen and we grin at each other. They get in and drive off while Peter heads out for home as well, having run the plane into the hanger and locked it up.

I turn to Frase and walk straight into his arms. He hangs on hard and I bury myself in him, taking in the loved Ben smell and the warmth and the strength. He rocks me a little and Dief presses in close. I guess he can tell something's wrong because he doesn't say anything either.

"I told 'em 'bout us," I mumble into his collar and Ben stops the rocking. I pull my face up and look him in the eye. I get more knots in my guts at the sight of his face - it's wooden and his eyes are a little wide.

"I love you and I'm not hiding you in some closet. I told Mom and Dad this morning before I left. It's hard to say if they'll be ok with it," I bury my face again and clutch his body closer, "I love you."

"Oh Ray," Ben whispers in my ear, "Thank you. That must have been so hard. No one has ever claimed me the way you have. I love you too. With all my heart and soul."

I get all misty at that and sniffle a bit into his collar.

"I'm sorry," I hitch my breathing, and his arms tighten around my body until I can barely breathe, "I'm just tired. Didn't sleep well this week. I was alone again."

"Come on, dear heart," Ben kisses my gelled hair and Dief nuzzles me, "I've arranged to take tomorrow off. I'm on call, but we can stay in tomorrow. Let's go home and sleep, hmm?"

I'm feeling a little better and manage to let go of his body, though he tangles one hand in mine and takes my other bag. We head over to the jeep and Dief spends the trip with his head on my shoulder. The cabin is warm and welcoming and we dump my bags in the bedroom.

"I have to take the jeep back to the post. Go on and have a shower, I'll be back when you're done," Ben tells me, and gives my cheek a quick kiss, "Dief - stay here."

I haven't got the energy to protest and Dief follows me into the bathroom. He lies across the door while I strip and get in, letting the hot water wash all the gel out and then cleaning myself like I was a surgeon prepping for an operation. Everything is scrubbed and rubbed until my skin is red, and Chicago is washed away. I turn the water off reluctantly and dry off as quickly as I can, fitting the coat hanger back on for the walk to the bedroom. I pull on sweat pants and a t-shirt before going out to the kitchen. I'm reheating some stew when Ben gets back and I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I called your parents to let them know you were home safe," he confesses straight away, "Your mother said you'd left a pair of socks behind and she will send them in the post."

"Were they…ok with you?" I ask nervously and he nods, coming to stand behind me with his arms around my waist. I lean back into him and he makes a pleased humming noise against the back of my neck.

"They were fine," he replies, "I could detect no discomfort in their voices."

That doesn't mean anything - they both know how to put on a united front for strangers. No one knew Dad wasn't talking to me for years, even old Anthony didn't notice it at first. Dinner is almost ready and Frase kisses the back of my neck before letting go. We eat in silence with his leg curled around mine and we wash up in silence too.

In the bedroom we strip down to skin and slide into bed eagerly, fitting our bodies together and sighing in pleasure when it all fits once more. Dief is along my back and Ben is along my front. I press my cock to his warm skin and kiss his collarbone a few times while he plays with my hair as I slide easily into sleep.

I can't move when I wake and Ben is calling my name. My throat hurts and I'm breathing so fast it's like I've run a race. Dief is on the floor, but when he sees I'm awake he barks once and Frase stops pinning me to the bed. They both look frightened and Dief gets back up to lick my face and let me hide in his fur. Frase grabs my wrist and checks it, before looking at the other one and running his hands over my body.

"Ray?" his voice is frightened too, and I pull my face away to look him in the eye. He's shaking and white and looks like I feel, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, Ben love," I tell him and reach out to hold him close, "God, I'm so sorry. Did I do that?"

His cheekbone is red and warm to my touch. I musta socked him a good one, even if I was asleep. He nuzzles into my hand but doesn't look away from my face. I start wondering what I was screaming when he finally managed to wake me to make him look that afraid. Whatever it was he looks terrified that I'm gonna melt away or something.

"You didn't mean to," he leans in and kisses me tenderly, "I didn't duck quickly enough. I love you."

I smile at him and pull him closer, so he rolls onto his side and lines his body up along mine. We tangle our arms and legs together while our breathing slows back to normal and Dief nuzzles me like a pup. He's still lying on my chest, and Ben gives him an exasperated look. Dief flattens his ears in reply and Ben opens his mouth. There's a glint in his eye again and this time it's anger.

"C'mon guys, don't fight," I tell them tiredly and kiss them both, though Ben gets tongue and eager stroking. He doesn't let that distract him though, and reaches a hand to stroke my face when we pause for air.

"Were all your nightmares this bad in Chicago?" he asks me and I shrug as well as I can with Dief still on top of me and my arm wrapped around him.

"I guess, I never remember them. Just the way they make me feel," I tell him, "It's better with you here. I wake up and it's ok, because you love me and I know I'm safe. Not to get too sappy, but you're my lifeline. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I'm not," Ben replies and leans down to kiss me. It's an intense kiss and I respond eagerly, wanting more of his tongue and taste in my mouth. Dief gets off me and I feel him get off the bed, pattering out to the living room and lying down with a thump. Ben slides on over to take Dief's place, settling onto my body. I groan into his mouth and wrap my legs around him, settling his groin against mine.

His cock twitches and I rub myself against him eagerly, sending my hands down to cup his ass and play with the crack there. He moans and salutes the touch and then drags his mouth away from mine to gasp my name. I take that to mean he likes the feeling and send my fingers between his cheeks to touch and stroke everything I can find. My Ben starts groaning and squirming, pushing back against my fingers until one lodges in his body.

"Ray! More!" he cries out and I pull free, kissing him hard and petting him eagerly.

"Need wet stuff," I know that much about what we're doing, and I figure if Stella needed to be played with before she could take me inside, so would Ben. He whines miserably and drags himself off the bed to go get some of hand cream that I use on the end of my leg to keep the skin from drying out and tearing. He throws himself back on the bed eagerly and I let him climb back on top of me, settling so his cock lines up with mine and his thighs straddle my hips.

"How far do you want to go?" I gasp when he thrusts his cock on mine hard, sending little sparks shooting all over my body. He kisses me hard and puts some of the cream on my fingers before grabbing my wrist and pulling until he's got me where he wants me.

"All," Ben seems incapable of human speech and starts playing with my nipples while I reach around again and put my finger tip back inside. I poke it in and out a little, and then push hard while he quivers and moans and arches his back. His eyes are shut and I watch his face, fascinated at the way he seems to go away from me, into the pleasure he's feeling from my finger and his ass.

He opens his eyes and kisses me, long sloppy kisses with lots of tongue and nibbling and sighing while I thrust my finger in and out until the tight grip his body has on me loosens and I'm moving easily. His body is begging for it, his cock so hard and dripping it must hurt. I add a second finger carefully and start spreading my fingers a little while he pants and fucks my ear with his tongue. He's driving my nipples crazy with his hands and I'm enjoying this prelude, enjoying all the noises he's making and the way my touch is turning him into cave-Mountie.

I stroke inside him and find the bump that all doctors are looking for when they tell you to turn your head and cough. He goes nuts, screaming and writhing and panting and begging for more. I add a third finger, and he calms down a little at the discomfort. I know it's discomfort from his grimace, but he won't let me go back to two fingers, rocking back and forth slowly until he loosens up. I stroke that happy button over and over and he starts to get excited again, a different excited, one that's gonna lead to climax if he doesn't slow down.

I think he gets this, 'cos he pulls himself off my fingers and grabs the cream again, this time slathering it all over my cock. I nearly come right there and he has to grab my balls to stop me. I'm lying there gasping for air when he lines himself up and sits down slowly. I can see right away that this hurts him and I grab at his hips, holding him up and helping him go slow.

"Don't let me hurt you," I beg, but he shakes his head and keeps sinking down. He finally sits in my lap and pants in pain. His cock has lost interest in proceedings and I rub his belly nice and low to help with the cramps - or at least that's what I think he's feeling from the look on his face. My cock is in the tightest place it's ever been and I think I'll come if he so much as breathes too deep.

I'm murmuring to him softly, and rubbing his belly when something inside him gives and he makes a surprised little noise. He moves carefully and hums to himself before starting to squirm all over my lap, shifting one way and another and cataloguing how it feels. He's hijacked my damn cock and I'm gonna go off like a rocket if he's not careful. I grab for his cock and start rubbing and petting the way he likes it. This gets me another noise and he settles into a rhythm while his cock firms up in my hand and starts drooling again. I'm panting and making stupid little noises as I push up into his weight. I can't thrust like this and it's probably for the best, 'cos I don't wanna hurt him. He shifts back against me and I feel my cock hit his happy button. He shrieks and goes nuts, wriggling and squirming as I hit it again and again, more by luck than on purpose. He does this final shimmy and I scream as I come so hard I'm seeing stars. I musta come all over his happy button 'cos he goes off like a rocket, and falls on top of me at the end.

If there's a pause between coming and sleeping, then I don't notice it.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Seven

If either one of us dreams any more that night I don't notice it. I wake with Ray beneath me, his body completely lax and sated. My own body feels heavy and cumbersome, but I don't wish to move. I am astonished that after all this time I've discovered something about my body that I didn't know. Not only is the stimulation to my prostate a powerful aphrodisiac, the act of allowing Ray to slide into my body and eventually come to climax inside me is powerfully alluring.

I sigh happily and kiss the man beneath me, sliding very carefully to one side and watching as he follows my body, snuggling into the shelter of my arms and mumbling my name. My heart swells at the comfort my presence so obviously gives him and I kiss him again. We both smell strongly - a male scent that I've only smelt faintly before in my more traditional couplings - and my belly is sticky as well where my seed dried on it as we slept. My rear is also rather tender, though I expected that result, based on previous physical exams.

Ray stirs a little in his sleep and I make soothing noises, kissing his forehead and caressing his body until he settles once more. Diefenbaker returns to the bedroom and gives me a calculating look before leaping onto the bed and settling beside Ray. He's right - I don't want to risk waking my lover by starting an argument - and I make a note to speak to him later.

Ray stirs and pulls his head back to look at me through sleepy eyes. His hair is spiked from sleep. I felt such a rush of affection when he stepped off the plane with his hair gelled yesterday - he looked just like he used to, only a little thinner. I wonder if I can persuade him to keep the habit - experimental hair suits Ray. He's looking deeply into my eyes and frowning a little, then his face clears and he smiles for me, leaning in for a kiss.

"Good morning Ben love," he whispers softly in my ear, "How are you feeling?"

"A little tender, but very good," I reply honestly - he knows that the initial act of penetration hurt last night, and won't appreciate a lie. He kisses my collar bone in the spot that makes me feel all warm and agreeable - another thing I didn't know about my body - and then pulls back a bit, leaning into Dief, who promptly drapes his head over Ray's shoulder.

"Would you like breakfast in bed?" he asks me and I smile while I think it over. He wants to pamper me - and after all the pampering I've tried with him I guess turn about is fair play.

"I would enjoy that very much. Will you join me?" I run a finger over his eyebrow and he nods, ducking into the touch for a moment. He reaches a hand back to ruffle Diefenbaker's fur and then sits up.

"I'll get you a wash cloth," he tells me and swings his legs over the bed. He puts the prosthesis on, glances at me out of the side of his eyes and then grabs the sweat pants that he wears to bed. With the prosthesis disguised Ray seems more comfortable and he heads quickly for the bathroom. Dief sighs in disappointment and I have to agree - it will be a while longer before my love is comfortable showing me his body and all it's perceived faults.

Ray cleans me up and then leans over to kiss me again. He is very solicitous of me this morning - probably due to our new experience last night - and I find it very enjoyable. None of my lovers has ever treated me this way after sex. I feel cherished, not something I'm familiar with.

Breakfast is a slow affair, with Dief grumbling that he didn't get any. Ray tells him that wolves don't eat in the bedroom - it's a new house rule - and Dief groans. He heads out to the kitchen for his own share of the breakfast, which I'm sure is generous. We sit together and feed each other from our own plates as well as talking. Snuggling is impossible sadly, but Ray clears the trays away and then comes back to join me in the bed, finally snuggling close and sighing in contentment.

"Tell me about Chicago," I request and he strokes my chest lightly. I hold him and listen as he tells me about Ma Vecchio and his parents. The 2-7 is discussed lightly, with me inquiring after mutual acquaintances. He trembles a little when he discusses his brother's family, and laughs when he talks about Turnbull and Inspector Thatcher. By the time he runs out of words he's yawning again, despite the fact that we've only been awake for a few hours.

"Sorry," he apologises, "Guess I'm still not caught up on my sleep."

"Rest, then," I tell him, "I'll be here."

His eyes are troubled when he looks at me and I smile. He nods eventually and settles down, closing his eyes and relaxing slowly. I'm wide awake and I spend the time thinking about his visit and what he didn't tell me about his brother and sister-in-law. After and hour or so Ray twitches in his sleep and makes a distressed noise.

"Shh love, I'm here. You're ok," I say softly, running my hands over his body in wide sweeps. He twists a little and then settles down again, burrowing closer to me in the bed and throwing a leg over mine. I let it fall between my thighs and stroke his hair gently. We avert a few nightmares this way, until he starts shuddering and gasping and I can't stop him. Even Dief licking the back of his neck doesn't wake him as he squirms and groans in my arms. He wakes with a yell and it's my turn to pamper and cherish him until the worst is once more over.

0o0o0o0

Ray comes in with me the next morning, and greets Constable Stevens happily, handing over a bag from his luggage. Stevens looks inside and smiles before dropping it into his drawer. If I didn't trust both men implicitly I'd be worried. I've come to see that Stevens is a good man - if a little awkward around others. My Ray is a firm friend of his - a testimony in his favour to be sure, and Stevens loses some of his formality in Ray's company.

Mary Sue comes in punctually at eight and stutters to a halt when she sees Ray. His face lights up in a smile and he walks over to take her coat, hanging it up and asking after her family. The scar on the side of her face is still rather red and noticeable, but Ray acts like it's not there, much the same way that Stevens and I have been doing. If anyone knows how hateful it is to be stared at, my Ray does. She regains some of her balance and starts work on the files in her tray. We set her desk up in the back of the office to afford her some protection and privacy - this has helped her settle into the work, though her skills are not what I'd wish. Francesca Vecchio was more competent on her first day at the 2-7 than this frightened child.

"That reminds me Frase," Ray has been looking at Mary Sue's attempts to get her work organised, "Frannie sent you a letter."

"How did you know…" I stop myself from completing that sentence, and he grins at me. This man knows me so well - I'm comforted by that thought. He fishes the heavily scented envelope from his inner pocket and hands it over before slipping into the chair next to Mary Sue and offering her some coaching on how to work in a 'bull pen'.

I glance through the morning reports, making notes to pass on to Stevens and possible tasks for Mary Sue before reading my letter from Fran. She's warmly affectionate in her writing and has issued an invitation for my next leave time. I make a note to reply, and hint that I'm taken so as not to embarrass her when we next meet, and then look up as the door to the post opens.

Matt Rose enters with a grin, handing over the weekly order of supplies for the post, and telling Stevens that he will be expected at dinner that evening.

"Thank you kindly, sir," Stevens smiles, "I look forward to seeing Mrs Rose and hearing about her trip to Chicago."

"Hey! No gossip!" Ray says from where he's sitting with Mary Sue, "No fair!"

Matt chuckles and winks before telling us goodbye and heading back out to the store. I settle into the daily business and Ray gets up after a while, telling me he's going to take the team out for some exercise. I nod - knowing better than to try and delay or dissuade him so I can go too. After his enforced immobility in Chicago, he won't want to be smothered in attention out of bed. I bite down on a grin, remembering how responsive he is in bed and force myself not to go any further with that mental image. By the time I'm under control the dogs are in the yard and Ray is settling them into the harness.

"I might not be back for lunch," he calls over their eager noise, "I've got some food with me and they need a good long run."

"Very well," I say from my position on the steps. Dief makes a querying noise and Ray shakes his head at the wolf, sending him a stern look. Diefenbaker is to guard me while Ray is away and I smile at my lover, relishing that he's so protective of me, and at the same time knowing that we both know that I don't really need it. I watch them out of sight, enjoying the graceful way Ray yields and flows to the movement of the sled as they run along the spring grass and out onto the mountain ridge.

Diefenbaker goes back inside unhappily and trots to sit with Mary Sue while she wrestles with the database. Stevens leaves for his appointed rounds and I make a note to ensure he has a stretch of leave time soon - he is shaping into a fine officer and needs to be kept from going stale.

0o0o0o0

By dusk Ray has still not returned and I am becoming increasingly concerned. Diefenbaker paces the floor unceasingly and Stevens sits at his desk, switching his gaze from the clock to the budget he is working on so often I'm surprised he doesn't get dizzy.

At thirty minutes to the hour he stands decisively while Mary Sue goes to stand at the window. I reflect that the constable and I are both thinking that we never discovered who set the traps around the post and wondering if he has struck again.

"I'll tell Mrs Rose I'm not coming," he tells me, "Then I'll help you prepare for the search. Perhaps we can call in some of the town to assist."

I thank him and Mary Sue shakes her head decisively. It doesn't seem to be in her character to act this way - but perhaps the incident that scarred her face has also helped her mature. Whatever the reason is, I'm glad to see the innate shyness and nervousness she's displayed the last week pushed aside for a moment.

"I'll go," she says firmly, "That way you can get started quicker. Dad is a good tracker - he's home right now Sergeant."

"Thank you kindly," I nod to her, "Start getting the dogs ready Constable - standard gear on the sled. I'll also alert the clinic."

Quite a crowd of people accompany me back to the post. Sasha and Matt Rose are there already, packing the gear on the list that Stevens has written out for them. I go out into the yard and frown at Stevens as he puts the last dog into the harness.

"That is not my usual…" I begin and he points to the harness that I habitually use. I pick it up and Stevens directs my attention in a low voice. The main line of the harness is cut almost through - any sudden strain would snap it immediately, or a long period of normal strain.

"If Ray didn't notice it when he harnessed his own team…" Stevens does not finish his thought and I am grateful. Diefenbaker growls low in his throat and I nod, stooping to put him into place at the head of the team. Sasha appears with the emergency equipment for the sled and I thank her in a quiet voice. I tell Stevens to organise the search parties and tell him that Dief and I are going to follow the ridge to begin with, and then we'll leave markers so others can follow our route. If we haven't found Ray by morning I want extra help called in from the other posts and the emergency care helicopter on stand by. The clinic in town is already on alert - I can see the lights on in its windows from here as dusk starts to deepen.

"Maybe you should wait for daybreak," Matt Rose says quietly as Stevens and I finish balancing the sled. I shake my head in reply and move into position at the rear of the sled.

"Dief! Find Ray! Go!" I run the sled forward as the dogs bark and take off, Diefenbaker with his nose to the ground as he leads us along the line we watched Ray take only a few hours ago. Behind me I hear several cars and other vehicles start up, and further in the distance I can hear a second dog team - Buckers - preparing to head out.

At this time of year dusk lingers for quite a while, and I am grateful for that. There are lamps on the sled that I light when Dief slows, and they send enough light around us to allow my wolf partner to speed up again. He is following Ray's scent trail by now, running surely as he tracks his pack mate. I am grateful that he has imprinted Ray like this and make a note not to object too much the next time he wants to join Ray on the bed.

I hear the other dogs before I see them. The snapping of the harness sent them into a fall that ensnared them amongst some rocks. Chicago and Nanuk are patiently gnawing on the harness that holds them in place; despite the fact the harness is designed to withstand such an attempt. When they catch our scent they begin to bark and howl, guiding us to them.

The remains of the sled are also scattered against the rocky outcrop and for a horrified moment I think I will find Ray in a similar condition. I release Chicago from his traces and he yelps, bounding off in a hurry. I leave the rest of the team there and follow him. He locates Ray quickly, and stands over his body, watching Diefenbaker and myself with wary eyes. It takes me a while to convince him that I will not hurt his master.

Ray has rolled downhill - and is quite a way from the sled. I believe he initially came to rest further downhill, but there is evidence he was trying to pull himself back to the team - possibly in order to free them to get help. I drop to the ground beside him, whispering his name and stroking his hair back from the bloody gash on his forehead. There is no response to my touch and I have to force myself to check the rest of his body for further injuries.

0o0o0o0

Ray wakes in the clinic, a little disoriented and in some pain from the wound to his head. His concussion is not life threatening, though the nurses feel it best he remain where he can be supervised closely for a while. Incredibly, the rest of his injuries are minor - some cuts and strains, as well as the inevitable bruises. His right leg is checked over very carefully for injury while he is unconscious, and then again when he wakes. My Ray puts up with the fussing with a clenched jaw and short answers. The nurses are excellent and know when to back off - for which I am grateful. Ray would hate himself for yelling at people who were only doing their job and trying to help him.

Stevens and I man the post. When we're not filling out the paperwork on the rescue and dealing with the hundreds of calls about Ray's accident - the clinic has the answering machine on so they can screen the calls, in fact their message contains an update of Ray's condition - we're examining the harness and garages for clues.

"What puzzles me is that the dogs themselves didn't object to the intruder," Stevens muses as we pause for the lunch that Sasha Rose has insisted we eat, "I'd have heard them in the night - and we'd have heard them in the day."

"Maybe they knew whoever did it," Mary Sue pipes up from her desk, where she is munching her own sandwiches. Stevens head whips around to look at her and then at me. There is merit in that suggestion - as horrible as it may be to think that someone who was trusted by the post would be capable of several attempts at murder and mayhem.

"Who do the dogs have the most contact with, apart from the people on post?" I asked him immediately. His forehead wrinkled in thought. The list would not be extensive, yet at the same time it was difficult to recall whom Ray met with the dogs when outside the post.

"Apart from the three of us," Stevens said finally, "Bucker, the vet Patterson Michaels and the delivery men - from Munhall."

The deliverymen from Munhall were a contracted firm that transported the RCMP's cargo and supplies from head office, as well as our regular stationary orders from the larger stores in the city. Stony Creek was a large town, but Munhall was larger and had more facilities, such as a hospital and courthouse.

There were four regular deliverymen who brought in the dogs supplies. They were obliging people who unloaded straight into the storage area. Despite the regular deliveries we'd never really gotten to know them beyond the friendly hello and the conventions of polite society. We offered coffee and the bathroom to them - Sasha Rose put on sandwiches which were always wolfed down with appreciation - but the four men were not disposed to linger or chat, and to be truthful the delivery days were busy ones for us as well, so neither Stevens or myself were disposed to chat.

"We had a delivery before you arrived - the day before in fact," Stevens says calmly, "There was heavy snow that afternoon - it would have covered their tracks. It was the quarterly delivery - so all four of them were here, and two trucks."

There was no hint of accusation or malice in his voice - we both knew that their presence did not automatically indicate guilt, or even involvement. However, the coincidence is attractive - it absolves our local people of any wrong doing, and gives us a fresh angle to work.

"Poor Ray," Mary Sue sighed, "He's got no luck at all. Both times there's something lying in wait around here, and both times he finds it."

My head comes up at that. There is truth in her sentiments. Stevens and I have assumed that so far one or both of us was the target. What if Ray has been the target all along? My Ray has made far more enemies than I - and I have the added support of the local law network. Should a prior arrest of mine get out of jail promising vengeance, I would be contacted immediately. Ray, however, was out of the loop in Chicago, though Lieutenant Welsh would send word as soon as he could. If we were in Chicago all of Ray's arrests would be examined for a possible protagonist - including the ones still incarcerated. The American prison system was notorious for allowing its inmates out too early, or allowing them to contact fellow criminals who had yet to be locked up.

"I'm going to contact Lieutenant Welsh," I tell Stevens, "I want you to call the post in Munhall and get them to check into the background of our delivery firm. Anything they find is to be sent here, highest priority."

"Yes sir," Stevens nods and turns to his phone while I do the same. It's time to stop reacting to the threats and start preventing further incidents.

Ray did not survive Chicago to be killed in Canada. Not while there was breath in my body.

0o0o0o0

Ray's eyes open when I slip into his room. He still looks pale and washed out propped in the bed uncomfortably. We made some effort to make him comfortable initially, but by then he was very grumpy from the continued fuss and bother about him - a reaction dating back to his time in the hospitals in Chicago. We had to give it up as he was becoming too distressed - and that was distressing me. I knew I could make him comfortable - his eyes clung to me in supplication, but I had no control over the people in the clinic and I was forced to watch him drift off uncomforted. The nurses are all at the other end of the clinic now, and I've locked the door so we won't be interrupted for a few hours. I smile and bend to kiss him tenderly, brushing a hand over his hair and then quietly reposition him in the bed. He sighs when I'm done and takes my hand. This is what we both wanted when he was first put to bed here - it does us both good to finally get it.

"Better?" I kiss the hand holding mine and sit in the chair beside him. He nods and blinks in response. We sit quietly for a while and he dozes on and off, checking that I haven't left between naps. It fills me with warmth that my simple presence reassures him so much - more than any declaration of love could ever do so. Stevens and I both agreed to take a rest break, so naturally I came to see my Ray. I am more than content to guard his rest, the tightness in his muscles giving way to genuine relaxation as he sleeps off the last of the headache. The next time he wakes to check that I'm there his eyes clear and he takes a deep breath to wake up properly.

"Where's number one son?" his teasing name for Diefenbaker is welcome to my ears - it means he's feeling better.

"Outside. The nurses won't let him in. I promised to tell you he's thinking of you," I smile and lean over to kiss him again. His lips are warm and welcoming, pliant against my own. It's several minutes before I release him reluctantly and lean back a little to see how he's doing. His eyes are shining with soft love and there's a little colour to his cheeks. The bandage is perched on spiky hair, though that comes more from the blood they washed out of it than the gel he used to use. I've drifted into my thoughts, but Ray pulls me back with a single question.

"Was that from Dief?" my wicked lover asks me and I start in my chair. My wolf had better not have been kissing Ray like that, or I'll take a stick to him - then skin the wolf. I see the half grin that he can't quite disguise and lean in again, deliberately licking him from chin to temple in a wet, broad swathe.

"That was," I tell my protesting man. He's got his face scrunched up in protest and he's half laughing, though I can see it's woken his headache again. He's adorable, and I make a mental note to never tell him that - I'll be sleeping on the couch for years if I do.

"Don't make me laugh," he begs, "That's disgusting Frase."

I smile and lean in for another kiss. We lose ourselves once more as our tongues and lips meet and meld. I keep it slow and tender, not wanting to hurt him in any possible way. When we break for breath he pulls my hand to his chest and sighs happily.

"I love you," he smiles, "I'm sorry I scared you. Do we have any leads?"

Three sentences and he's reassured, comforted and redirected me entirely. It's easy to forget that this wonderful man was a top detective - one of the best in Chicago. There isn't much scope for his skills as a detective here and I'm filled with awe that he could totally retrain himself to become the town mechanic and jack of all trades in a small Canadian outpost, thousands of miles from everything that he grew up with. And this is before I arrived and he confessed his love for me. I drag myself back to his question before he can fret himself into worry over the answer.

"We may have. It's possible that these attacks weren't aimed at the RCMP, but at you personally. We're looking at the deliverymen from Munhall. I've contacted Lieutenant Welsh in Chicago for any possible links between an old case and the men out here. We're getting background checks run in Munhall and hopefully we'll be able to make a match."

"You think they're after me?" Ray is fading slowly, but struggling to hold on, "Why? They've never met me, and if they wanted me they'd come after the cabin, right? Ben love?"

"It's possible they don't know where you live. These attacks are opportunistic in nature. Don't worry my own, I'll be careful. Diefenbaker will stay with me," I reassure him and lean in to kiss him back to sleep.

When I'm sure he's asleep I check my watch and settle back in the hard chair for a few more hours. It's not the relaxed rest that Stevens assumed I'd be getting when we agreed to take a rest, but that's between the chair and me.

As far as I know Stevens doesn't talk to chairs. If he does it's an aberration that I've missed…

0o0o0o0

Stevens looks up as I re-enter the post. He's at the fax machine, rapidly sorting papers into order and then slipping them into folders, organising the data before handing it to Mary Sue to be checked and logged. She's filling out a receipt to be faxed back to HQ efficiently and it strikes me how well the two of them work together. I put that aside for now to accept the first folder as they say hello and inquire after Ray. Diefenbaker whines miserably as I answer and I look down at him in commiseration.

"You know that you're not allowed in hospitals," I tell him, not without sympathy. I get a low grumble in response and sigh.

"That was Ray's idea," I tell him, "It was different circumstances entirely. Ray was worried I might die and didn't want you to miss your chance to say goodbye - plus he was feeling guilty about shooting me. Ray is in no danger and will be released tomorrow morning. You can see him then."

Stevens and Mary Sue look from one to the other of us, but decide not to interfere. I take the rest of the folders from Stevens and go to sit at my desk. As Ray's former partner in Chicago it makes sense that I review the files quickly first for any familiar names. I discard the first folder quickly, passing it to Stevens to review against the arrest and misdemeanour records from our post - there's no point in missing a potential solution. Mary Sue double checks Stevens work, as there is quite a substantial list to go through.

The third file gives me pause, as does the fourth. The fax machine beeps and I get up to log the fax through automatically. It's from the 2-7 and I wait impatiently for the machine to finish. I log it in, send the receipt and then go back to my desk, rifling through the pages until my findings are confirmed.

"Peter and Paul Davies," I sigh, "Arrested by Ray just before he was injured for racketeering. The twin brothers both got thirty-year sentences - apparently they backed up their business rather brutally. They swore to get back at Ray and have been writing to various members of their families, including two cousins that they used to visit rather often when they were children. One by the name of Mark Antwerp and the other by the name of Samuel O'Neill. Antwerp and O'Neill are two of our delivery men."

"Oh dear," Stevens sighs, and Mary Sue pales a little at his side. As far as I know she's never had contact with the deliverymen - she has become a little man shy in the aftermath of her attack, and who can blame her. The last delivery day we had, Stevens and I arranged for her to be out of the office - she had a day-in-lieu, which she spent shopping in Munhall with her mother. We benefited from that trip - Mary Sue came back with some very smart clothes and a haircut that improved her appearance no end. Upon his return from Chicago, Ray did a double take and pretended to chat her up, asking Stevens who the 'new girl' was while she giggled at his antics. As I remembered it, Stevens hadn't been too impressed with my lover's antics, though I had been comfortably secure in my Ray's affections.

"Now what?" Mary Sue asks, and I echo the question silently. Having a cousin in prison is not a criminal offence - though we have motive and opportunity, we still have no proof of guilt.

"Now we establish their level of involvement," Stevens once more walks the fine line between stating the facts and accusation, "We need to re-examine the physical evidence we have and look for anything we may have overlooked."

"I'll contact Welsh," I say wearily, "Perhaps he has some idea's of how to establish their involvement from his end in Chicago."

As I reach for the phone, I flip through the calendar. We have another three weeks before the next delivery is due - Ray's accident occurred only days after our last delivery. That will give us more than ample time to re-examine the evidence and come up with a plan.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Eight

Things do not go according to plan. The bad luck that once dogged us in Chicago - how else can you explain the bizarre and dangerous situations we found ourselves in the midst of - returned to haunt us just as Ray was released from the clinic and into my care.

Diefenbaker was ecstatic - showing his delight in a very vocal and juvenile manner. Stevens had agreed to come to the cabin to collect the jeep - I wasn't about to allow Ray to walk such a distance so soon after his head injury, nor was I going to leave him alone - so I had a short time to settle them both.

Ray declined to go to bed and rest, stating that he was tired of lying around doing nothing, so I agreed reluctantly to sitting on the couch with him and Diefenbaker. My wolf partner was not in the mood to share, if the look he was casting my way was any indication, but Ray soon had him calmed down, mainly by rubbing his ears and neck until Dief was a silver puddle of goo on the couch.

"If he was a cat, he'd be purring," Ray chuckled to me, though I saw he was very careful to turn his head so Diefenbaker couldn't read his lips. I chuckled too, and leaned in for a kiss. We sit quietly for a while, just absorbing each other's presence and reconnecting. Eventually Ray tips his head back and helps himself to my lips, kissing me warmly, nuzzling into my mouth and sighing in contentment. I shift a little for a better angle - one that's more comfortable for us both. Ray melts into me, kissing and suckling with a dreamy expression, totally lost in my mouth and warmth. Neither one of us is very coherent when we pause for a moment, snuggling close and simply existing for a long stretch. Dief has gone to sleep with his head in Ray's lap and the cabin is quiet.

Quiet enough for me to hear the stealthy footsteps approaching the door. I stiffen, and Ray looks up sharply, frowning at the noise. We both know that Stevens wouldn't come up the path this way - and we were half expecting Sasha and Matt Rose to come with him. Dief lifts his head from Ray's lap, his lips pulled back in a silent snarl as he reacts to our tension and detects the intruders himself. I get up silently and head for the bedroom where I keep my gun locked away when I'm off duty. When I return to stand in the doorway, Ray is upright, a hand restraining Dief by the scruff of the neck, facing the door with a determined expression.

A glance tells me the door is locked, but neither of us has drawn the curtains today - enjoying the late sunshine. Ray moves swiftly to my side, tugging Dief with him, out of view of the windows. A moment later a face peers in quickly, pulling back after a second and then edging into view for a longer look. It's Antwerp. I'm glad of the heft of my revolver in my hand and reach out to touch Ray. Our eyes connect for a moment before we turn and watch, as he looks around as best he can and then turn to look at someone out of sight. Ray glances at the open curtains in the bedroom window and then tugs me to crouch beneath the window just in time to duck O'Neill. Dief is quivering in Ray's grip and my man has his mouth over Dief's muzzle to keep him quiet. So far our wolf is obeying the command, but if Antwerp or O'Neill should come inside…

We move out for a look after a moment. The window is clear, and there are footsteps around the side of the cabin, heading confidently for the back door. They must have decided there was no one home, despite the jeep parked out the front. I check that there is no one looking in from the front or rear windows, then tug Ray towards the door.

"The woods," I whisper in his ear and he nods. The cabin is too confined to risk confronting our adversaries - but in the woods near our home we are at a distinct advantage. We slip out the door and run.

0o0o0o0

Ray moves quickly ahead of me, ducking into the shelter of the trees silently, and then waiting for me to catch up.

"We need back up," I tell him quietly, and he frowns. Ray is not stupid - he knows that it will fall to him to go into town for backup while I remain here. He is unarmed and lame besides, though it's hurting me to have to think like this about the energetic man who is my lover. He looks down at Dief, and then nods. Going to one knee he takes Dief's ruff in both hands and makes the wolf look him in the eye.

"Protect Ben," he orders in a hard voice. Without waiting for a response he's up, kissing me hard and then moving away - determination in every step. I don't make any attempt to promise him anything about safety or waiting. We both know that the situation could change at any second. The fact that Stevens could, at this moment, be heading our way is giving me hope that he won't have to go far.

I turn my attention back to the cabin, focusing my eyes and ears on it as best I can. Both are in excellent condition and allow me to discern faint sounds of movement in the cabin. When I am sure that they are settled in to wait for Ray and myself to innocently come home I use the cover of the trees to fall back a bit further. The contents of the cabin are not as important as Ray or myself and I'll help clean, repair and replace anything he deems worthy of the effort once the miscreants are out of harms way.

I don't have long to wait. Ray and Stevens are beside me in thirty minutes time. Ray gives me a look of relief, then settles back to allow me to brief them on our quarry's possible plan.

"Are they armed?" Stevens question is a valid one, and one that I'm unable to answer. They could be carrying weapons - Ray and I never saw their hands. We were too busy hiding while I retrieved my revolver. Ray's face is worried when I tell Stevens that I can't answer the question, but he sees me watching and just nods once.

"We stopped at the Leary house - there's back up on the way from Munhall," Stevens tells me, "And I took the liberty of calling Mary Sue - she's informing the clinic to stand by for casualties."

"Understood," I tell him, and look at my lovers cabin.

"They better not be messing with the stereo in there," Ray growls the apparently unconnected comment out and Stevens grins.

"Agreed. After the trouble we had hooking the speakers up…"

We both welcome the show of support and I nod to my colleague before getting back to business.

"I believe that the best option is for us to flush them out of the cabin," I tell them both, "If we can get them to run out the back and somehow corral them into the woodshed."

"Dief is a wolf, not a collie," Ray interprets the disgusted look Diefenbaker is giving me over my word choice, "And besides, the only way to get them out is to let them know we're here. If they've got hunting rifles, we're goners."

"Alternatives?" I ask crisply, and Stevens eyes the smoking chimney on our roof.

"We could smoke them out," he suggests, "There is a tree that will allow someone to get onto the roof - if we stop up the chimney…"

"You'd have to be quiet," Ray cautions, "The slightest noise could get you an arse full of bullets."

"I can do it," Stevens looks at me for permission, "If we can find a way to secure one of the doors to contain their exit…"

"It's possible," I allow, "What would you use on the chimney?"

"There's some puddles back there - he could soak our shirts in them. Wet material is the best," Ray speaks up then blushes, "Mis-spent youth."

I allow a smile to quirk my lips and we set about shedding our top layers. I wonder where Ray learned to stop up chimneys - probably visiting a relative in a small town; I make a note to ask him later. The plan leaves me in a Henley and Ray in a shirt. Stevens is in his skivvies and he accepts our items of clothing sombrely. He heads back for the puddles that Ray mentioned while I move to block off the back door.

0o0o0o0

It doesn't take long for me to return to Ray and Diefenbaker. He nods once, the anxiety in his eyes abating a little at my safe and undetected return. Stevens is only moments behind, the now wet material bundled under one arm. We watch him carefully move through the cover to the tree that grows on the blind side of the cabin. Internally, that is the wall with the built in storage and bookshelves. The pantry runs along that wall, though it has a skylight in its part of the roof.

Stevens skins up the tree quickly and is balancing along the overhanging branch in no time at all. He moves slowly onto the roof, every movement speaking of control and caution. The loft - the space between the sloped roof and the internal ceiling - that provides storage space and some insulation will muffle a little noise, but he must be careful not to make any regular sounds that could be taken for footsteps.

Though it is only a short distance to the chimney, Stevens takes ten minutes to reach it. Ray holds his breath in anxiety now and then, though Stevens is sure-footed and calm. Finally, he reaches his objective and very carefully tamps the wet clothing into the flue. The smoke stops immediately - cut off by the plug as we planned. Ray and I both move into readiness, though I can't help but notice that he cannot achieve the smooth crouch that I became accustomed to seeing in Chicago.

Inside the cabin there are sudden yells and coughing noises as the smoke flows out of the strange, round fireplace that Ray owns and into the cabin. After a few minutes the door opens and both men lurch out, gasping and wheezing for air. It is a moments work for me to leap out and knock the rifles from their hands while Diefenbaker growls and plants himself between them and the door. Stevens drops off the roof to collect the rifles and it is the work of a moment to secure a prisoner each while Ray secures the rifles.

We move as a polished team, and before the men inside know what has hit them they are in the back of the jeep with the caution ringing in their ears. Ray has gone inside to extinguish the fire and check that there is no damage or other unwelcome surprises lying around.

"All clear in here, Frase," he calls from the window, which he is opening to let the smoke out and the fresh air in. Stevens climbs the tree again - it is the work of minutes now that he doesn't need to worry about being shot at. Our ruined clothing comes down with a nasty thud and he follows lightly.

I yell out to Ray that we're leaving for the post - Antwerp is still wheezing heavily and the clinic nurses should see to him - and that Diefenbaker is staying with him. We leave the front yard before he can object.

I won't leave him unprotected, not even with the two men who were trying to kill him secured to the back seat behind me. If that means I'm sleeping on the couch until he calms down, so be it.

0o0o0o0

We are delayed at the post, waiting for reinforcements to arrive and then completing all the millions of forms and interviews needed to process them into custody. That's an exaggeration. It's only twelve really, but when I'm separated from the man I love, even one is too many to fill out.

I leave Stevens talking to Mary Sue as our colleagues finally leave. It's truly dark now, but I am unworried about the trip - I could find my Ray in any conditions. He is my true north, and I make a mental note not to tell him that either. I have some pride.

Light and sound pours from the open windows and doors of the cabin. It blazes to me like a beacon and I hurry my footsteps eagerly. Ray is still airing the cabin out, and our bedding is draped over the rails along the front porch. I move past it without pause and halt in the doorway.

The furniture has been moved back against the walls and Dief is lying on the couch, watching my lover intently, a delighted lupine grin stretching his face. The music is Santana's 'Smooth', set to repeat over and again, the classic guitar riffs and growled words a perfect accompaniment to the sight before me.

Ray is dancing - his hips snapping lightly from side to side, his hands held in the air as he shuffles lightly around the room, singing along to the music. The energy is there - and though his movements aren't quiet as supple as they had been when I saw him dance with Stella there is joy and grace there.

His movements take him around to face the door and his face lights up brighter than the sunshine. His arms go out and I find myself in them without consciously deciding to move. He laughs at me and I pick up the rhythm.

The last time I danced like this it was with Ray Vecchio and I was in drag. That Ray wasn't a very good dancer - we did better at the disco steps later on, than at the waltz - but my Ray has me slipping and sliding to the beat in no time, his talented hips nudging me in the right direction. He's still smiling at me, singing along to the song; his eyes dancing and his face glowing with happiness.

The music starts again and I pick up the lyrics with him - ridiculous to be singing of heat in the Northern Territories, but sublimely happy to be here in his arms.

I think I know what this is about. We faced danger today - worked as a team, used our strengths. He did his job, I did mine and no one got hurt. We're together, and right now we're pretty unstoppable. Ray's face lights up even further when he sees that I understand and he shouts a word above the music that makes my heart and soul soar.

"Greatness!"

Chapter Nine

I bite back a moan of pure, sensual pleasure as I stroke deeply into Ray's sweet body. He's spooned in front of me, our bodies tangled together on our sides as I rock myself deeper and deeper into his willing flesh. Our hands are wrapped around his erect dick, stroking in time with my thrusts. Ray is voicing his pleasure in soft voiced cries, telling me how good he feels, how much he loves me.

Ribbons of pleasure are wrapping their way around my body, making my limbs heavy and slow as my lover shivers in my warm embrace. He stills his body for a long moment and we balance on our sides, letting it draw out, letting the seconds pass in aching delight. Ray turns his head towards me for the sweetest of kisses, warm lips and soft skin brushing and clinging.

"Ben love," he arches his body, driving back against me, and I can hold still no longer, moving urgently against him as he moans and thrusts back onto my impaling dick. His voice rises in joy and he grips me tightly. Warm seed spills over our hands as he comes and I feel his passage spasm and grip me tightly, pulling my own orgasm from my body. We cry out in one voice, words of love and praise.

Ray shudders a final time and then falls limply to the bed, moaning in displeasure when I disengage from his body. I kiss the back of his neck and move to pull him close. He turns in my arms, snuggling into my body, breathing in gasps as we ride the afterglow towards sleep. My last action of the night is to pull the covers over us - we'll worry about changing the linen tomorrow.

Only when he's totally limp in my arms does Diefenbaker enter the room, leaping up to lie along Ray's back. We've fought the nightmares off these last few months, our touch and voices sufficient talismans against the terrible memories and phantoms that haunt our beloved mates sleep.

We wake in a sticky tangle in the morning.

"Good morning Ben love," Ray snuggles closer to me, rolling us on the bed until he is sprawled on top of me, "Did you sleep as well as I did?"

He sounds proud - and he should be. In the beginning night terrors and panic attacks turned sleep into a torture course for the both of us - Ray's screams woke us all. Then we would spend the rest of the night riding out the panic, trying to relax him enough to resume the needed sleep. Now we deal with a few waking moments, usually my touch or warmth will send him safely back to sleep.

"I did," I confirm and he gives me a firm kiss to distract me from his hands, which are sneaking down to my nipples and morning erection.

"Ray," I sigh in token protest - my lover won't let me out of bed until we've both been satisfied - that is something I have some to relish since I first moved to Stony Creek and found my hearts desire. Ray's tongue is my mouth - to muffle further protests I suspect, and I arch into his weight as he caresses a nipple and glides his erection along mine.

Before I know it he has a finger deep inside me, using the discarded tube from last night, while he suckles at my groin, his warm tongue bathing everything in delicious moisture. My next coherent thought comes as he pulls three fingers from my body and rolls me over, a cushion at my hips to prop me up. It seems like only minutes later that I climax hard while his dick jerks and shoots deep inside my body as I moan and writhe in sheer pleasure.

When I can think again I am lying sprawled over his body, kissing him gently while his seed trickles from me. Diefenbaker is on the bed as well, sitting up beside us with a puzzled expression on his face. The alarm goes off and Ray's hand arcs out to slap it off.

"Sorry Ben love," he tells me, "Time to get up."

He kisses me soundly for good measure and I sit up reluctantly. Stevens has gone out on long-range patrol and will be absent for at least a week, so I am the only representative of the RCMP in town. It will not do to be late, so I prise myself away from my lover and head for the shower. Diefenbaker snuggles down in my spot and I quell a surge of jealousy. It is not becoming to envy my wolf for staying in bed with my partner. I am a grown man, and I can share.

Our morning routine is a comfort and we meet again over the breakfast table.

"What's on your slate for today?" Ray smiles over his chocolate-laced coffee. He bought me a teapot for my birthday - one that rests in the matching cup when not in use, a clever little contrivance that I use at the least excuse.

"Licence inspections," I reply, "And the office hours of course. Mary Sue is going to be in the office all day - she has become quite adept at finding me to pass on messages."

"I'm heading out to the Riley place. They've got a seized engine or something and the rest of their machines need to be looked over. I'll be out there all day, and maybe late coming back," Ray grins down at Dief and reaches to ruffle his fur, "You be good today, Dief."

Dief gives him a mildly insulted look and sniffs while Ray gets up and kisses me goodbye.

"Be careful," I tell him somewhat redundantly. Ray is quite capable, "Are you taking the dogs?"

"Yeah," he puts his cup away, comes back for a lingering kiss and tears himself away. It's always like this in the morning - we're both reluctant to let the other one out of sight. Even if we've argued we part reluctantly. The door closes behind him and I sigh, echoed by Dief.

0o0o0o0

Knowing that Ray will be home late gives me little incentive to be home early. I stay late at the post, working on a few of the minor maintenance chores. With the post a man down there is always something to be done to maintain it in pristine condition. Head Office has had no luck locating someone who is willing to transfer out to our remote location permanently and I have made it clear that I will not readily accept temporary placements. Stony Creek is not a violent town, nor is the Territory especially dangerous, but the instability caused by a stream of temporary assignments is not what the town deserves. If Head Office insists, I will of course take a temporary constable on. So far they have not.

Though it is late, the door is not locked and Ray walks in without knocking, expecting to see me, smiling when he does. He is glowing with good health; only the slightest hesitation mars his step as he moves over to my desk. He comes around to where I am watching him with a smile and drops his arm around my shoulder. He nuzzles into my hair and kisses my ear and neck, one hand reaching down to caress my chest. I lean into his warmth hungrily and he chuckles, kissing his way to my mouth and taking it tenderly. The brass I am polishing falls to the desk with a clunk.

"What are ya still doing out here?" he scolds lightly, "Home was cold and dark."

He kisses the corner of my mouth and bends to greet Diefenbaker. I struggle to control the desire he has awakened and Ray gives me a little smile in apology. Neither one of us is so unprofessional to contemplate acting on our love in the post.

"Why didn't ya drag him home, buddy?" he asks my wolf, and Dief whines at him. Ray laughs and ruffles the silver fur his hands are buried in before straightening again. He has gained a little more weight and at my request his hair is once more spiked in the old Chicago style. He looks wonderful to my unbiased eyes. Even Sasha Rose is relaxing her campaign to feed him up - she no longer tries to force third helpings of dinner on him. Seconds are still mandatory.

"Come on Ben love," he tells me kindly, recalling me from my thoughts, "Put that away now and come home for dinner. I've got a stew heating on the stove."

I pack up as requested while Dief and Ray watch from the door. Dief is leaning against Ray quite hard and Ray is absently running his hands through Dief's fur, both enjoying the touch and time together. My lupine partner is very protective of Ray - when the three of us are inside together it is most likely that Dief will be resting on Ray's leg or feet.

We walk home in silence - content with each other as we move through the first snow of the season. Ray has finished with his building contracts for the summer - always a boom time for extensions as the 'winter crop' of babies demand more space. Now he will be travelling around the territory, sometimes for days at a time as he performs the round of winter machine maintenance. The cabin is lit up; sending welcome light out onto the path and the warmth from the fire greets me as I open the door. Dief heads straight for the fireplace and his accustomed spot beside it. I catch Ray sneering at him about survival instincts and chuckle. The smell of the stew on the stove makes my mouth water and Ray goes to check if it's ready yet.

There is mail on the table - Ray has opened it already, so I ignore it in favour of setting the table. He would have said if there was anything urgent, so whatever is there can wait for breakfast tomorrow.

It seems funny to have settled into such a domestic routine. We discuss the bills and correspondence over breakfast as well as our plans for the day. We discuss our plans for the future over dinner - holidays and additions to our home. So far, Ray's parents have not accepted our invitation to spend Christmas with us. The apparent rejection hurts Ray, though he doesn't say anything to me directly. As Christmas is only a month away it is unlikely that they will come.

Should it just be the two of us I am afraid that Ray will have to spend Christmas with me at the post, as Stevens will want to spend it with his family in Ottawa. I remember Ray telling me about his first Christmas here - he also spent it at the post, working on the engines there and later taking the dogs out. I hope that I can provide him with a suitably distracting alternative.

Dinner is quiet and we clean up the kitchen in harmony before collapsing together on the couch. I read with my head in Ray's lap while he watches the Chicago hockey team and sips from a cup of coffee. Later we retire for the night, snuggling close together and tangling our limbs. Ray makes no offer of sex and I am content to hold him close. He is relaxed enough to allow the stump of his leg to touch me, and I treasure the gift of his acceptance. He will let me see him naked now, without flinching or cringing, though he still won't let me touch his leg apart from the inevitable brushes when we are making love or asleep. Dief sighs in contentment at Ray's back and I allow the sounds of my family lull me to sleep.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Ten

I wake up before Ben does and slide out of his arms with care. He stirs a little and I make what he once called 'the toilet grunt'. He settles and I pull on the coat hanger before visiting the bathroom and getting dressed. As quietly as I can I go and put the coffee on, waiting impatiently for the stuff to brew, wanting it ready before the sun comes up. It's not usual for me to wake this early, but I want to talk to Ben about an idea I've had and I also want to watch the sunrise with him.

Coffee brewed and poured, I put on my coat and scarf and gloves and step into my mukluks - I'm still too thin to fight the cold and while Ben mightn't notice it, the winter is definitely catching us up - then go and wake my lover.

"Ray?" his voice is little boy confused and I grin down at him, "Is something wrong?"

"Nope," I cave, leaning down to kiss him awake properly, evading a sneaking hand that tries to pull me back into bed, "C'mon Ben love - I want to watch the sunrise with you."

That gets his attention and he gets up, pulling on the clothes I pass to him, and his jacket as well. I make him sit on a blanket on the steps and sit behind him, my thighs around his hips and my chest on his back. I lean in, a nice solid weight that warms us both and we sip our coffee as the sun breaks over the horizon and slowly floods the valley that Stony Creek nestles in.

We're silent, but it's the kind of contented silence that seems loud and warm. Ben is a wonderful weight in front of me, still smelling of sleep and coffee. I nuzzle into his hair after a while and he captures my hands.

"This was a lovely idea Ray," Frase sighs, "Thank you."

"Not too sappy?" I tease his ear with my lips lightly, and he bends his neck in encouragement.

"Not at all," he replies. Dief comes back from whatever he was doing in the woods and sits on Frase's feet with a contented sigh. I chuckle and stop the nuzzling, choosing now to bring up my idea.

"We got a letter from Turnbull yesterday," I tell my lover, "He's got leave time over Christmas, but will probably try to trade it with one of the Constables at the Consulate. He's got nowhere to go. The thing is, he's got so much accumulated that Inspector Thatcher has to send him off no matter what."

"You want to invite him here?" Frase is no dummy - I've never forgotten that. He has a sharp mind and good instincts. It's what made him the perfect partner in Chicago, despite the loony things he'd sometimes do.

"Uh hum," I confirm, "I was thinking. That time that he had to come and rescue us? When he was out in the wilderness and doing his thing? That was the only time I saw him really happy. He's miserable at the Consulate - and he hates the work, you can tell. I don't know why he can't get a post out where he'd be happy, but I was thinking. What if we put him up at the post with Stevens and we see how he handles Stony Creek for his leave time? It's a month and a half, because he's not taking it in Chicago. If he fits in, you could maybe offer him the third position."

I sit quietly after that, letting Frase stew it over. This is what I love about our relationship. We can make suggestions to each other without worrying too much about the other person's response. If Ben turns my idea down, he'll at least tell me why. I know he won't be angry with me for suggesting it, just like he knows I won't be angry if he turns me down. We learnt back in Chicago when we were just friends that sometimes we had to tell each other no. We're adults and we can handle it. I needn't worry about spoiling the peace and contentment of the sunrise either - Frase is a loose bundle of muscles between my thighs. He's not offended by my suggestion for what is essentially his command - I'm not a threat to his authority.

"Stevens is aware of our relationship," Frase says after a while, "Though officially he is not. Constable Turnbull would also come to realise how things stand between us."

"Would he have a problem with that?" I ask, accepting the news about Stevens without a quiver. We're not blatant in public, but if you know us well enough you can see how we feel. Steve Stevens is a good friend of mine - he was long before Frase came to town and he's no dummy either.

"I don't believe so," Frase muses, "It is a worthy endeavour, Ray. I shall issue the invitation to Turnbull this morning at the post."

He takes a breath and I let go, feeling him ready to get up. Dief grumbles as his pillow is moved and Frase turns to pull me up as well. I stand and he kisses me deeply, sending a strong jolt to my cock. I moan into his mouth and we stumble inside for our morning nookie, eager for each other's hands and mouth. We don't make it to the bed.

The honeymoon is so not over yet.

0o0o0o0

We're not the only people who have visitors for Christmas. Sasha Rose tells me that her youngest daughter Amy is coming to visit for a few months while I'm fixing the motor in her storage refrigerator. I grin up at her from my position on the floor and wiggle my eyebrows.

"A family Christmas for you then," I tell her, "Mr Rose had better be polishing up his shotgun. If she's anything like you they'll be queuing around the block."

"Oh you," Sasha takes a swipe at me and I duck, complaining about brutality. She's grinning at me though and asks what Turnbull is like. That's a tricky question. In Chicago he was inept and unhappy - in the wilderness for that short time he was competent and relaxed. I try to explain that I knew him mostly when he was homesick and that I have a feeling that he'll be different out here.

"You and the Sergeant are thinking to recruit him," Sasha leans against the wall and I shrug, working at a particularly stubborn fastening to get the cover plate back on, "Well, well. I always knew the Sergeant was a go getter."

It feels weird to hear Frase called that. He has a name and most of the people in town prefer to use that instead of his rank. I get up from the floor and start the freezer up. The motor comes to life sweetly and I grin at my customer.

"All done," I tell her, "I'll send yer my bill."

She snorts at that - I haven't charged her for my services since I got here - and I collect my tools and clean up a little. Mr Rose is in the store proper, serving Mrs Harvey as she completes her pre-winter stockpile shopping. I start hauling boxes out to her truck, and her kids quit messing around in the street to go help. Five teenagers and a nine-year-old form an experienced box chain. I shake my head - the winters out here sure were long and cold. Mr Rose joins in the box chain, and the truck is soon loaded to the max. We cover the food up with tarps and the kids tumble in with their mom.

"Ray, can you fit me into your schedule this week? Tom wants everything checked before winter really hits us," she asks through the open window while her kids settle and bicker lightly. I grin and nod, promising to be there on Wednesday. The Harvey family is a way out of town and often get cut off from civilisation in the big snowfalls. Tom Harvey is some Internet guru that works from home - he came up here on a holiday with his folks, and fell in love. They got married pretty quickly and he settled right on into the town. Some people just aren't city folk and he's one that proves it - city bred though he is.

I head over to the post and say hello to Steve on my way through to the garage. The people at Head Office sent up a couple of second hand snow mobiles a few weeks ago and they need some work before I'll let Frase use them. Being such a small post means we occasionally get the short end of the stick when it comes to new equipment. The fact that we've got two dog teams here also reduced the need for vehicles that could cope with a deep snow fall. Mary Sue brings me a coffee a while later and we chat about this and that. She and Steve are becoming quite the item here, and I'm betting it won't be long before we hear the ringing of wedding bells.

0o0o0o0

The first signs of trouble came from the weather. It snowed pretty heavily Tuesday night and it took me a while to get to the Harvey place. Their house is made from the rocks that gave Stony Creek its name, and stands out darkly against the snow. The Harvey's greeted me happily enough and I stowed the dogs out of the cold wind that was cutting down from the pass.

"Man it's cold!" I chuckle and accept the coffee that Annie offers. Tom and Annie are sitting opposite me at the huge kitchen table that Annie made for them from a tree that fell across the drive. I rub a thumb along the edge of the table to feel the gritty texture and grin across at her.

"This is one fine piece of work, Annie," I tell her, "You've some skill there."

"Thanks Ray," she grins back, "I had some help from Henry - he's looking to make a living out of it one day."

Henry is nine and thin and scrappy. His glasses are nearly as thick as mine and yet he doesn't have the picked on 'cringe' that I wore at that age. Maybe it's the whole 'we're Canadian - we're polite' thing going for him, or maybe it's because the local school is run by a very strict and wily old man that has seen and done it all before.

"Well if he's half as good as you I'll have to watch out for competition," I reply easily, "I am the local handy man come builder."

We all chuckle and shoot the breeze and I let them lead up to whatever is burning on the tip of their tongues to ask. While the Harvey's are great people, I've never been real friendly with them because we just don't run across each other that much outside of work. Either I was fixing something for them or they were in town.

"Ray, we've got a request for you," Tom said after a moment, "Jenny is coming up to the end of her schooling and looking for a profession to enter."

"Uh huh," I nod encouragingly, getting an inkling of where this is going.

"She wants to do an apprenticeship in motor mechanics and maybe get a job in the city over the pass, but she needs someone to teach her. We've looked into the whole thing and the theoretical side can be done online - she can learn and attend cyber classes and all that on the net, but she needs someone to do the practical stuff with her," Tom continued, and I shake my head, pushing the coffee cup aside.

"I'm not an accredited teacher, Tom, hell, my credentials as a mechanic are pretty slim. I did get the certification so I could work on the RCMP machinery, but…"

"Ray, we asked them about that too," Annie interrupted, "You don't have to be a teacher, you just need to have the certification and then make sure she learns to do a specific set of skills to a good standard. The final assessment will be done on campus - Jenny will have to go in for that - and the school will want to talk to you about what you think."

I lean back and fold my hands, staring down at them, thinking hard. If Jenny said she wanted to do this she'd be serious and work hard. I didn't even need to worry about training my own competition. Tom and Annie and would have made sure that Jenny knew that there was no work available close to home and set her up to move to where the work was when she was done. Don't get me wrong - if she wanted to be the town mechanic bad enough she could do it by putting me out of business, but there was not enough work for two mechanics in town. Most the folk around here know enough for light maintenance and easy repairs but for the major stuff and yearly overhauls they came to me. You couldn't live out here without knowing the basics in an emergency and Jenny was the one who did the light maintenance on her parent's machines.

"Ok," I nod sharply, hoping I don't end up regretting this, "When do we start and do I need to fill in any forms?"

Annie's face lights up and I grin back at her while Tom called Jenny in from wherever she'd been waiting. They had paperwork and stuff ready for me and I read it over carefully before signing. Then I look over at Jenny and tell her to get her coat.

"We'll start here today and tomorrow I'll swing by here on my way to the Elroy's place, but you know that you'll need to get into town every day from now on. Maybe you can find a room or something in town? I can't come get you every day and your folks will need the dogs for the family."

"I know, I'm going to board with Mary Sue and her folks," Jenny nods, her eyes shining. It will be the furthest she's been from home since she was born, and I hide a grin. You can see that she's itching to get out and start her own life.

In the machinery shed I hand her my spare work gloves and start her off checking that the brakes are on everything and the keys are out of the ignition. I start giving her basic safety instructions as I check over each engine - stuff like where to put your hands, what to avoid, how to access the tricky bits of the machinery safely and comfortably.

"You never want to be leaning full stretch across an engine, ok?" I warn her, "It's a sure fire way to have an accident. Walking around may take a little more time, but in the end it's worth it."

"But if the engine's not turned on," she protests and I straighten up, glaring the old cop glare at her and knocking the inspection panel which slams down heavily with a loud clang that rings through the shed. She jumps and straightens in response to the glare and I hide a grin - the old glare still has it. And if that's what it takes to knock the typical teenage 'I know what I'm doing' attitude out of her then that's what she'll get. She won't have an accident on my watch if I can possibly help it.

"At full stretch that would crush your skull like a rotten egg," I tell her, "Don't be sloppy - accidents can happen in any number of ways."

She nods and I pull the hatch open again, latching it in place.

"We'll need to fix that latch too," I tell her and go back to what I was doing. Here starteth the lesson.

0o0o0o0

The second sign of trouble was not Turnbull's acceptance of the invitation, or even the fact that he brought his leave forward to be here sooner. Steve had come back early to spend some of his leave time with Mary Sue, which meant that Turnbull would meet the man off duty and Fraser was going to be manning the office alone once his external duties were completed for the day in an effort to give them more time together. It might not be standard procedure from the manual, but Ben knew how hard it was to love someone and not be with them - we both did. Steve's early return wasn't a sign of trouble either - in the end the fact that there were three Mounties on hand to deal with things made life a lot easier.

The second sign was the case that crossed Fraser's desk two days before Turnbull arrived. It was a kidnapping case - someone had the American ambassador's daughter and all posts were put on alert. The fact that we were practically on the other side of the country - you couldn't get much further north than we were - hadn't dissuaded RCMP Headquarters from sending us the full details and alerts.

"Ya think they'll come this far out?" I asked Frase over dinner as I read the details. That was also probably against SOP but long time habits were hard to break. We share the casework together, always had. It felt good to me that he still valued my opinion despite the damage. Tracking poaching rings and such like was different from detecting in Chicago, but the old brain still works and so does the partnership.

"It seems very unlikely, Ray," Frase conceded, "However, we will be alert."

I sit back, dinner finished and leer at him.

"How alert?" I ask and a faintly worried expression crosses his face as I get up and stump around the table, pulling his chair out and getting in between his legs. He's wearing heavy denim and wool and smells incredibly good. I kneel and rub my palms over his thighs and they widen even more for me, so eager for my touch.

"Hmm? If I do this will it distract you?" I ask, rubbing hypnotically, staring up into his face, and looking him over carefully. He's controlling his breathing, looking down solemnly and shakes his head. I swallow a victorious grin. He'll play along!

"No, that's not distracting at all," he tells me in a tight voice. I nod and run my fingers over his belly and up his chest, rubbing, stroking with slow even rhythm. His breath hitches and he curls and uncurls his hands at his side, trying not to grab on. Frase loves to play with my hair when I'm down here like this and it's gotta be bugging him that he can't. I send my hands down slowly again, feeling him up, getting a healthy expression of interest from his trapped dick. I rub him until he's pushing his hips into my hand and breathing heavily.

"Still with me, big guy?" I tease him and play with his jeans, undoing them and dipping my hands inside for my prize, "Am I bothering you?"

"Not at all, Ray," he's working hard to keep his voice steady, but his thighs are shaking in the seat and his face is flushed. I grin goofily at him and lean forward to taste my prize. There's a knock on the door. Ben growls and slumps in his chair, his eyes begging me to do something, anything. I zip him up real careful and get up, tugging at my shirt a little to cover up. At my gestures he stumbles out to the bathroom and I take a deep breath, ruffling my hands through my hair as I head for the door. Satisfied that I don't look like I was trying to swallow Ben cock first in the dining room I open the door and let Steve in.

"What's wrong, Steve?" I ask, looking over the uniform and the serious looking gear that he's carrying. Whatever it is, it's official. The guys that live on post are on twenty-four hour duty. Fraser has been worried that Steve never gets a break and I know it's only a matter of time before he starts spending the night there to give his subordinates a break.

"Those American climbers that went through here last week have been sighted on a ledge, waving a distress signal," Steve tells me and the phone rings as Sergeant 'ears like a bat' Fraser calls that he is getting changed. It's Sasha Rose on the phone and she's telling me that Turnbull is at the store - having arrived a day earlier than we expected. Frase emerges from the bedroom, looking as calm and unruffled as ever and I call him over to the phone, letting him know that Turnbull has arrived.

Frase organises Turnbull to man the post tomorrow and tells him that I'll be out in the morning to introduce him to Mary Sue. If he and Steve take a sled each tonight they can be out there by morning and assess the situation. Steve has already alerted the rescue chopper - just in case they can't deal with the emergency themselves. If everything goes to plan they can be back by tomorrow night.

"Be careful," I say as they head out the door. Steve has Chicago and the team at the ready and it only takes a few minutes for them to hitch up Frase's dogs with Dief in the lead. Frase nods at me and I nod back, wishing that I could go. I hate being left behind, but even if there would be room for me on the way back the fact is that I couldn't climb that well even before I lost my leg.

I ask Frase for the use of a snow mobile tomorrow and he gives his permission with a nod. Jenny and I are headed down into the valley and we'd originally planned to take the dogs. Frase steps to the back of the sleds and gives it a push, calling his usual command:

"Lets go guys."

They move out swiftly. I watch them out of sight and then go back inside to clean up the leftovers of dinner. I'm not looking forward to spending the night alone. Turnbull - nut that he is - will probably be at the post by dawn and I decide to go in and keep him company. Jenny meets me at the post each morning, coming in with Mary Sue, so I'll be cutting down my commute time.

Plan made, I check that the fire is safe and go to bed.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Eleven

Running a sled at night takes a lot of concentration, and all thoughts of pleasure with my lover are put aside as we rush through the cold night air. I have come to the happy conclusion that no matter how long Ray and I love each other; the level of desire and love we feel for each other can only grow stronger with each passing day. Ray complements me in a way that no other has before - my weaknesses and his strengths mesh to make us a unique whole. We were both new to male sex, though Ray had researched and experimented on himself. It had never occurred to me to do so when I finally admitted to my feelings for Ray - it was easier to deny that side of my life entirely than to complicate things with wishful experiments. Ray is a much braver and stronger man than I.

Stevens is just behind me, his team running quietly and smoothly. In the past six months - in fact since my arrival - Stevens has slowly yet surely broadened his skill base. I am also coming to see him as a valuable friend, though my friendship with him will always be illuminated by the gratitude I have for his care of Ray. Their friendship saved a part of Ray that loneliness would have slowly killed.

The sleds move out of the shadow of the mountain to our left and I direct my thoughts to the job at hand, reviewing the information I have and readying possible future actions

The American climbers that came through Stony Creek last week were experienced in their sport - at least that was what their references and permits said. It was a husband and wife team and they spent a few days in town planning their climb of Hardship Rock - a huge slab of granite that arches into the sky halfway along Stony Pass. Their equipment was all professional and they knew the 'lingo' of the climbing community. Any doubts I have about their skill comes more from their attitude to the people I police, and the town that I protect. They were what Ray calls 'ugly Americans' loud, opinionated and bigoted. Nothing was good enough, even though they had encountered no difficulties at all in procuring their supplies, directions and permits for the hunting weapons they were carrying. The weapons were not a part of the usual climbers rigueur, but they intended to stay out on the mountain for quite some time and would need to hunt to supplement their diet. They also had fishing permits.

Sasha Rose didn't really take to the couple, but that may have been due to their reaction to Ray. My man had entered the store in search of his new apprentice Jenny, and the woman - her name was also Jenny - had fawned and gushed, making a lot of noise and fuss around him. Sasha Rose had reported that Ray was uncomfortable - I took that to mean mortified - and things had only gotten worse when the insensitive woman asked for his autograph. At this point Ray had visibly restrained himself from whatever impulse was acting upon him and left, pushing out of the corner he'd been backed into. He came home late that night, withdrawn and upset. The nightmares had struck with a vengeance and we'd ended up on the sofa together, watching television with Dief at our feet.

No one at Stony Creek knows the full details of the incident that led to Ray's maiming, not even me. None of us dare to push too hard for the information, and to go behind his back would be a betrayal of the first degree. We content ourselves with the knowledge that Ray has chosen to live his life out in the company of friends he met on the quest and leave it at that.

As we don't get many American tourists through town - we are too far off the beaten track, even for the hunters - this problem has not occurred before. Ray spent a few more days withdrawn from his friends and myself, but once the Americans were gone he soon returned to his tough guy persona. The nightmares were once more held at bay and I hoped we had seen the last of our troubles for a while.

There is a full moon tonight, and it lights our way beautifully. There is a starkness to the shadows and light that is truly enchanting. Ray once told me he wished he were an artist so he could capture the beauty and starkness of the land at night. We were on the quest at the time. Those happy times renew my spirits and I smile a little at the memories before recalling my thoughts again. It seems that no matter what I do, my mind returns to my lover. It's fitting - he is after all, my beginning and end.

As we pass through the Harvey's land I note the landmarks that will keep us oriented. Stevens report to me as we hitched up the team indicated that old Mr Delevan had spotted the Americans. He lives alone in the family home - his wife had died some years ago and his children fled to points south. Sasha Rose calls him regularly on the radio and Ray had been out to see him once or twice over a seized engine. Despite his solitude, Mr Delevan was a hardy and self reliant man. He was observant and stood for no nonsense on or around his land. My dealings with him had always been cordial.

Mr Delevan had reported the emergency signal to be located on a ledge halfway up Hardship Rock. We didn't know if the Americans were climbing up or down the rock, or why they are flying the signal. We should reach the pass before dawn and the Rock by daylight. The dogs would be given a well earned rest and we will be able to assess the situation more clearly.

I slow the sled down to spare the dogs a little and hear Stevens do the same. Chicago and the team still prefer Ray to my Constable but there is nothing I can do about that. They have both tried to convince the team that Stevens is a competent musher, but to no avail. We are coming up to difficult terrain and I push all extraneous thoughts from my mind to concentrate.

0o0o0o0

With the dogs needs settled, Stevens and I approach the base of the Rock. The emergency signal is clearly visible on the ledge half way up the rock. As we get ready to make our own ascent Jenny starts calling and waving from her ledge, her voice quite anxious and shrill. I call up to reassure her that we are on our way and Stevens begins his ascent. I give him a good lead and then begin my own climb, enjoying the challenge of finding secure holds and challenging this ancient rock. We are able to use the crampons and pitons previous climbers have left behind, wedged into place in a kind of path up the Rock.

A steady half hour of climbing gets us to the ledge.

"Oh thank god," Jenny gushed, "It's Peter - he's stuck. We dropped a piton down a crack behind a dumb rock and it rolled on his arm. I can't get him out!"

Peter looks up wearily and I glance over the evidence of Jenny's attempts to keep him comfortable and get him out. It's obvious that they erected a shelter over him at night, but the tent poles are broken, used as levers in an attempt to get the rock off his arm.

"Are you in any pain?" I ask as I squirm for position and look at the way the rock has pinned him in place. There seems to be plenty of room there, it has simply caught him in place.

"No, it's not on my arm, just too narrow to get the damn thing out," Peter tells me, "Originally I was on my knees facing it as I reached in. I guess I knocked it off balance. I've got enough room to move my fingers and I was able to turn around so I can sit down. I just can't pull it out."

"Ahh," I murmur and lean back, looking the rock over and then stepping to the edge of the ledge and looking at where the dogs are. I don't want to risk any manoeuvres that could send this rock over the ledge to land on them - even near them is too risky.

"Stevens, we need to move the dogs first - if this goes it could hit them," I look over at my constable who is already belaying the rope he carried up, preparatory to abseiling back to the ground, "Bring up the crowbar as well, or tie it to the bottom of the rope and I'll pull it up."

"Understood," Stevens nods and steps back over the edge, making a smooth descent. I turn and look at the two Americans. They are huddled together, but seem to be in good shape.

"Would you like some water? Or food?" I offer and they both accept water from my canteen. They sit quietly as I ready the ledge for our efforts and Jenny gets up to prepare their equipment as well. There is no sign of the rifle or fishing gear that they came out with. The rifle would have made a very effective lever, and also assist them in attracting attention. I had seen the harness that would attach it to their climbing packs…

"We left the Jeep further up the pass," Jenny seems to read my mind, "We were going to head back there and do some hunting before travelling further up the pass."

I nod and turn as Stevens clears the ledge, the crowbar secured by a trailing line. We clear debris away from the bottom of the boulder and I check that there is no snow or other things prone to avalanches triggered by sound in the area.

"Very well," I turn to Jenny, "Constable Stevens and myself will move the boulder forward. You will assist Peter in moving sideways along the ledge, freeing his arm and pulling him to safety. As soon as you are clear we will release the boulder."

"I'll shout when we're clear," she promises and takes hold of Peter's free shoulder and parka. Stevens and I spend a few minutes securing our footing and lever, then I count to three and we apply a steady strain.

The heavy boulder quakes and grates, then shifts forward oh so slowly. Peter heaves and Jenny pulls, scrambling and tripping backwards, pulling her husband with her. They go down in a tangle of arms and legs, close to the edge and off balance.

"Yes!" she shouts and we ease off the strain, the boulder teetering slowly before settling with a crunch in its former position. Stevens whirls and grabs for the couple, steadying them before they can topple off the edge and I grab him, unwilling to lose my subordinate and friend if the Americans should fall after all. For a long moment we are all poised and then it is over and the Americans are safely away from the edge.

I move to inspect the trapped arm, and find it bruised and stiff, but otherwise seemingly unharmed. I secure it in a brace anyway and together Stevens and I lower the Americans to the valley floor before Stevens follows them. I unhook the ropes and climb down carefully.

When I reach the bottom the dogs are ready with the couple and their gear settled in the sleds for the journey home.

0o0o0o0

We reach Stony Creek at midnight. There is a light on in the clinic's window and Stevens takes Peter and his wife in while I take the dogs to the post. It doesn't take them long to get settled and I emerge from the garage as Stevens crosses the road from the clinic.

"They'll stay the night there, but Nurse Fry doesn't think there's any serious injury," Stevens tells me wearily. I nod and think about home.

Unfortunately, the late hour and the paperwork are against me. I head into the post and start the work now, with the idea that tomorrow I will come in a little later than usual. Some sleep is in order, and as much as I want to be at home with Ray I know that I am too tired to walk there tonight. Driving in a vehicle is also not an option - my fatigue precludes it.

Paperwork finished and put into Mary Sue's tray for the morning I take a spare bunk in the barracks, rolling in a blanket with Diefenbaker at my feet. It seems that I've only just closed my eyes when the sounds of Mary Sue entering the post wake me. The four hours of sleep that I've had are enough to get me home to Ray and I get up, slipping my boots back on and heading for the cabin. I've left a note in her tray to tell her I'll be in later. Turnbull will be able to manage until I return, and Stevens is still on leave.

It's not until I reach our front door that I realise there was no sign of Turnbull at the post. Perhaps he'd spent the night with Ray - they had a friendship of sorts in Chicago. I push the door open quietly so as not to disturb my lover.

The coat rack is empty and the cabin is cold. My gut clenches most unpleasantly as Dief whines. I go to check the ashes in the fireplace and find them cool - there's been no fire there since the night I left with Stevens. I look around for a note or a sign, anything to tell me where Ray has gone. Nothing.

"Dief!" I call and head back to the post double time. Mary Sue might have an idea where Ray went - if he'd been called out to a machine repair he'd have called Jenny to accompany him or inform her that he'd be out of town. I still feel the flush of pride that Ray was asked to take on an apprentice.

Turnbull may also have a clue to Ray's whereabouts. For that matter he may well have dropped a message on my desk that - in my fatigue last night - I missed. Mary Sue jumps to her feet as I enter the post, dropping the phone that she had to her ear and hurrying to my side.

"Sergeant Fraser! Thank heavens! I thought I'd missed you!" she cries and grabs a file from the desk next to hers - the spare desk that we were accustomed to using for storage. It will be Turnbull's if he decides to take up a post with us here.

"Where is Ray?" I ask and she hands the file over.

"With Constable Turnbull, sir," she tells me, "They've gone after the kidnappers."

"Kidnappers?" I mumble, the icy feeling growing worse with each moment. Turnbull is competent, but he is not me - Ray and I can read each other's signals with ease, second guessing the other with almost telepathic accuracy.

"The people who kidnapped little Penny Armstrong - the American Ambassador's daughter," she replies and I sit down to read through the file, trying to make sense of her words and the contents.

The picture emerges rapidly. Ray must have come into town the night I left to greet Turnbull and make sure he was comfortable for the night. Whilst they were in the post they received, or discovered the new all points bulletin that Headquarters had faxed through.

In it, there was a more detailed description of the people suspected of involvement in the kidnapping that was rapidly turning into a nightmare for the authorities in Toronto. The FBI were pushing for further involvement outside their jurisdiction and…

I hauled my thoughts back to the post and kept reading grimly. Ray had recognised two of the descriptions as Jenny and Peter Waters. He and Turnbull had hauled out the maps of the area and they'd gone through Mary Sue's files for the latest reports of illegal trappers and seasonal travellers - people who were strangers to the area, passing through with as little contact with the community as possible. We kept track of these people due to their tendency to pilfering.

Ray and Turnbull had deduced that Jenny and Peter were acting as a distraction for us while their associates passed through our territory. They had also deduced that the couple would have left some arms and supplies for their compatriots.

Using the information at the post and their not inconsiderable knowledge of criminals and their habits, Turnbull and Ray had isolated the area where Penny Armstrong was being held and headed on out that morning to rescue her. They had dispatched their suspicions to the correct authorities and also informed Mary Sue of their intentions. A quick check of the armoury showed that Turnbull, at least, was armed. Mary Sue told me that they had borrowed her father's dogs and Ray was driving.

"Constable Stevens?" I ask, looking up.

"He's gone to the clinic to secure the Waters. I woke him when I came in this morning. He told me to call you at the cabin, and went to the clinic right away. I was trying again when you came in," Mary Sue's eyes are worried, but her report is succinct. She has regained her control and I nod to her in thanks.

"I am going to assist Constable Stevens," I tell her, "Contact Headquarters again, find out why there has been no response from them. If you get no satisfaction there, contact Sergeant Frobisher and fill him in on the situation. Act upon whatever he tells you to do."

"Yes, sir," she nods and heads for her desk as I walk out the door.

At the clinic, Stevens is standing quietly outside the door to Peter Waters room. He nods when he sees me and we knock, going in together. I stay by the door and he moves to stand at the window, blocking off their escape. Jenny and Peter are looking back and forth at us, tense and hostile.

When I explain I am taking them into protective custody they make a break for the door and window respectively. It is a moment's work to subdue Peter, who is hampered by his lack of clothing and the precautionary brace fitted to his wrist. Jenny struggled with Stevens quite fiercely and he was forced to strike at her in self-defence. I make a mental note to reassure him later and we take them to the cells at the post, wrapping Peter in a blanket for the trip outside.

"There is a small detachment on the way, sir," Mary Sue informs me when the prisoners are secured in separate quarters, "What will I tell them when they get here?"

No fool she - I'm going after Ray, and Stevens will not look kindly on orders to remain behind. Mary Sue is safe enough in the post, and I will instruct her to have her father come over to assist with the prisoners. I issue my instructions and we head out to the garage. The dogs are tired but we cannot risk the snowmobiles.

I mix the two teams, choosing the fittest of each. Chicago will take the position of lead dog, leaving Diefenbaker free to run alongside. I have a feeling my lupine partner will be needed in other capacities today.

Stevens returns from the armoury with sufficient weaponry and additional first aid supplies. He takes his place upon the sled and we are off, running as fast as we possibly can. Ray has twenty-four hours on us and I am afraid that we will arrive too late.

0o0o0o0

We find Ray's borrowed team hidden under an evergreen. It has fallen in one of the winter storms, leaning crazily to the left. Enough of its roots remained intact to ensure its survival, so the tree is growing almost sideways. The lower branches, combined with their covering of snow, make for a perfect hiding place for the dogs and sled. Ray and Turnbull have left them hitched to the sled - for a quick getaway perhaps - but they are settled with tallow and greet us quietly. I leave Stevens to settle our team - he also leaves them in the harness and uses some of the tallow still on Ray's sled to feed our team - while I scout the area.

Turnbull has led the way forward; Ray is stepping in his tracks. The signs are obvious to me, though an inexperienced tracker will not be able to tell the correct number of people walking this way. They deduced that their quarry was headed for an abandoned mineshaft called, rather romantically 'Hopes Dreams and Wishes'. Unfortunately that's all the miners ever had - the rather small vein of ore ran out quickly and they never found anything else out there. It is an oddity now - sealed up for the most part, though the owners - descendents of the original miners - come out from Quebec now and then to inspect it. They are city folk and ill at ease out here. Their visits are always short.

There are definite signs that the mine is now in use - though there are very few facilities there. The miners actually built into the side of the mountain, hollowing out accommodation for themselves and putting a cabin front over the entrance to their small houses. The cabins are a historical curiosity and have been listed for preservation. Now and then we get some archaeologists, the occasional geologist or mineralogy students out here to look at them or the mine.

It seems that this is what the kidnappers are trying to pass themselves off as - there are a few vehicles with a school crest on the side parked to one side, though I don't recognise the name of the school and one of the crests is crooked. All is still and I have lost the tracks I was following. There is no sign of Turnbull or Ray, or anyone else for that matter.

Stevens joins me in concealment and I give him time to make his own observations, knowing that the four hours of sleep I had are not enough to combat the tiredness that is dulling my faculties a little. Diefenbaker is at my side, also surveying the area and I wish that his hearing was up to scratch. It would reassure me greatly if he could hear Ray's voice - dogs hearing being much sharper than our own. I debate unhitching Chicago, then reject the idea - there is no predicting what the dog will do if it thinks its handler is in danger. Despite the fact that he officially belongs to the RCMP, Chicago has taken to Ray rather powerfully.

I spare a moment to consider the little girl and hope that whatever trauma she has endured, the men who took her have at least kept her warm and fed.

"It appears deserted," Stevens whispers in my ear and I nod. We both know that appearances are often deceiving and I decide to try and get a little closer. There is an outcrop of rocks that will give me sufficient cover and let me get closer to the vehicles. I indicate my intentions to Stevens and he brings his rifle up to provide me with protection.

Before I can do more than ease myself back a little, preparatory to circling behind Stevens on my way to the rocks there is a sharp crack, a muffled roar and a great gout of flame roars out of the mouth of the mine shaft. The concussion knocks me down, and presses Stevens and Dief to the ground. Part of the hillside slips a little, sinking down as the mineshaft collapses and subsides.

Two men come running out of the furthest cabin. They shout and scream for a moment before heading for the mineshaft. Stevens is up in a flash, shouting for them to halt, firing a round into the ground at their feet. I am on my feet and circling immediately, getting behind them and disarming them before securing their wrists and pushing them into the tree line.

"Yer too late, Mounties," on man sneers, "Yer mates were in that mine, along with Penny. I dunno what they did, but no one gets out of an explosion like that."

"And how many of your people went with them?" Stevens hisses, red faced and furious. I put a numb hand on his shoulder, not wanting him to jeopardise the arrest with an inopportune remark. Ray and Turnbull rescued Penny, at least, though they were discovered. Unfortunately, the evidence against the surviving kidnappers - gloating remarks aside - is now buried in that mine with…I shut my eyes and then turn to glare pure murder at our prisoners.

The rest of me is frozen in grief. Diefenbaker throws his head back and howls, a lonely, torn sound that my heart is echoing.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Thirteen

When the dishes are done I grab my coat and scarf and head into town. Turnbull has had a long trip and the least I can do is to go down and make sure that he's comfortable and settled for the night. Frase offered him a bed in the house with us or a bunk at the post and Turnbull chose the post, saying that he didn't want to put us to any bother.

I figure that as long as he's happy - and I'll offer him a bed at the house again tonight - it doesn't matter where he sleeps. In a way, putting him up at the post is a good idea - he and Steve should get to know each other before we offer Turnbull the posting.

Turnbull is still at Sasha's house when I get there. He came in with Amy Rose and is trying to get away to give her parents some time with their child, but Sasha is having none of it, insisting he stay for a decent meal before heading to the post. I arrive in time to be roped into the argument, though I manage to squirm out of the meal for myself - citing the stew dinner I had with my Ben.

Amy Rose is not what I expected at all, with a spiky, multicoloured hairdo, a lot of piercings in her ear, one in her nose and one in her eyebrow. She looks like a tropical fish in a goldfish bowl, and when I come in she's displaying her latest tattoo, on her left hip. Turnbull is looking flustered - both from the hospitality debate and the bare skin on display, and he cottons on to me with relief.

The Roses feed us - I'm forced into eating a small serving 'to be polite', damn that woman's devious - and I walk him to the post as soon as it's polite to do so. I close the door to the barracks firmly and then grin over at him.

"So, Turnbull, it's good to see ya. How was the trip?" I ask and he smiles back. He's got a glint in his eyes that I never saw in Chicago - Stony Creek is already working its magic on him.

"Very enjoyable. I had ample opportunity to observe the country as I came in. I must say, Ray that you live in a beautiful spot."

I had made it clear that he was to call me by my first name now - we were both of us off duty and friends - and he had not forgotten once since I made the request. I was still calling him Turnbull, though, and that seemed wrong to me. If we were going to be friendly, last names wouldn't do. However, calling him Renfield was just weird - didn't Canadian's call their boys normal names? And could I really talk with my name being what it was?

"Look, I can't keep calling you Turnbull - that's not buddies. You got another name I can call you?" I sigh, stirring the stove to get the heat going and then checking the furnace as well. Steve used both - though the furnace was mainly turned on for the cells. They kept it at a low temperature to stop the pipes from freezing and keep the chill off the unused rooms.

"Ummm," Turnbull shoots me a very shy look and I grin at him in encouragement. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders, preparing himself for a refusal. I get the feeling he is about to ask me to call him something he's wished for but never had. I make a mental note not to laugh or insult him in any way when he finally spits it out.

"I've always wanted to be called Renf," Turnbull confesses to me and I nod, looking at my boots for a moment before grinning at him in reassurance. I guess he didn't have many buddies that would give him a nickname like that. At least people called me 'Ray' when I asked them to, well, except for Vecchio…

"Sure, Renf," I gesture to the kitchen that allows access to the post, "You want some tea? Steve got some of Sasha Roses good fruitcake yesterday for the post. She feeds him three times a week - I'm sure he won't mind sharing."

"That would be very welcome," Turnbull says in a soft voice and I gimp out to the kitchen, giving him time to get it back together. He joins me after a minute and we sit at the table while he tells me about Chicago and the Consulate.

0o0o0o0

I'm getting ready to go when I hear the fax machine in the post go off. Turnbull follows me as I gimp on in and pull out the logbook and a pen. I jot the details down from the front cover while Turnbull sits on the edge of the nearest desk to read through the details of the fax. It's an all points bulletin and when I ask about it - making it clear that I already know about the kidnapping and the details sent to the post - he hands it over for me to read page by page.

When I get to the last two descriptions my alarms all go off.

"Damn, Renf, this sounds just like the couple that Ben and Steve have gone to rescue," I tell him and he frowns at me. I shift uneasily.

"Look, they're American and the woman - her name is Jenny Waters - recognised me from the mess in Chicago. They've got a whole bunch of hunting permits and weapons, but they're here to climb rocks and mountains. They said the permits were so they could supplement their rations. Maybe the reason she made such a fuss about recognising me was to get me off balance and not thinking about if I'd seen her before. We musta run across each other in Chicago or something."

I go and dig out the post's copies of the permits and the list of weaponry they were carrying. Turnbull goes over it with a frown and then looks up at me.

"This seems excessive, even for Americans," he tells me and then blushes. I laugh and clap him on the shoulder, shaking my head. In a way he just complemented me - I know he didn't mean me in that statement. He gets it back together and I pull out a map of the area, showing him where they were going and where Frase is headed.

"It is possible that the kidnappers are headed this way and the Waters couple are attempting to distract Sergeant Fraser and Constable Stevens while they travel," Turnbull admits, "There have been vague reports from the intelligence branch of sightings in this general area."

"And I bet they were discounted, because no one thought they'd come this far out. What are they ransoming the kid for?" I nod; poring over the map, looking for a place these guys could hole up without being spotted easily.

"They are trying to influence a trade deal between our countries," Turnbull sighed, "But as you know, America will not negotiate with terrorists, no matter the cause."

"That's right. They'll just take the kids dad off the job," I nod and Turnbull leans over the map with me.

"What do you think is their likely destination, should they be in this area?" Turnbull asks after a moment and I grin. He's willing to play my hunch for now. It won't hurt for us to go have a look around and if nothing comes of it then we've at least eliminated the territory out here.

"Well, they need shelter - they can't expect to keep the kid locked up in a tent," I tell him and he nods.

"Penny Armstrong is only six, but in my experience children at that age can be quite resourceful," he agrees and I bite my lip. The poor kid must be scared spitless. It's been almost a week since she was taken.

"Yeah, Renf, but if she runs away out here there's no chance for her - she won't know how to survive the wilds, even assuming she doesn't freeze to death in the first coupla hours," I tell him, and then point to the map, "Look, there are two places they can be, and one of them is a fairly outside chance. The old Demeter homestead - it's burned out but the barns and sheds are still intact - or the Hopes Dreams and Wishes mine. There's plenty of shelter there and it's more defensible. I think the mine is more likely - it's in better condition, and closer to the area where the Waters were climbing. If they were scouting the area for the rest of the gang they'd have been more likely to find the mine than the homestead."

"Very well," Turnbull nods, "I will just compose a quick fax to headquarters, detailing our suspicions. We should also leave a message for the Sergeant."

"I'll do that. We can call Mary Sue as well; let her know what's going on. She'll have to man the post alone today," I nod, looking out at the street, which is slowly brightening with the dawn's first light. I'll also have to let Jenny know to call our clients for the day and reschedule with them. With a bit of luck the girls will spend the day at the post together - we don't like leaving Mary Sue without back up.

0o0o0o0

Mary Sue's dad lends us his dogs when he hears what we're doing and agrees to keep an eye on the post and his daughter unofficially. We don't want to use machines that will advertise our location to our quarry. And I've been in Canada too long if I'm thinkin' things like that.

I pack Turnbull in as passenger, because the dogs know me better than him. I've raced against this team once or twice in friendly competition, and taken care of them while the family was away for Mary Sue's surgery and later for a holiday they all took to give themselves a chance to get their heads around what had happened.

We get there by mid-afternoon. If things are going ok for Ben and Steve they'll be heading back from their rescue by now. I push him from my mind, though I'm wishing with all my heart he was beside me right now. Turnbull and I have never been in action together like this - and I'm worried that the leg will slow me down as well. I'm in the best shape of my life, though, and I'll have to be smart about what I take on.

We hide the dogs under a weird tree, and after a moments thought we leave them in the traces instead of untying them like we normally would. I get them settled with a bit of tallow each and hope they'll be quiet. We've got the sled concealed and pointing back toward Stony Creek, so if we have to make a break for it we're at least pointing in the right direction.

I step in Turnbull's tracks on the way to the mine and bingo - there are our suspects. They've got a couple of vehicles with a fake school crest on the side. On the way here I told Turnbull what I knew about the mine and its layout. I've been there once to rescue a couple of geologists who broke down and they showed me around a little. I know there's no one supposed to be there now - the rules say that the schools have to inform the post of their presence each time - should there be an emergency out there the guys on post know what to expect and who to look for.

Careful surveillance tells us that the kid is in a little hut all on her own inside the mine. It used to house explosives and isn't really heated, though it's out of the weather at least. There's a generator chugging away in the entrance and I hope that means she's got a light and a heater.

We decide to wait until it's dark to make our move. With luck once they've fed the kid they'll leave her alone for the night and we can break her out of there and be gone before they realise we were there. Turnbull's armed and we decide that I'll go in for Penny while he covers me. We spend the last of the daylight edging slowly into an outcrop that is the closest cover to the mines entrance.

The temperature drops sharply when the sun goes down and I hand Turnbull some of the pemmican that I brought with me. We'll need the fuel to fight the cold and keep our energy reserves up. When my watch face - which is luminous thank god - shows it's seven there's some activity as a guy takes a lantern over to the mine. He's carrying a bowl and has a thermos tucked under his arm - Penny's dinner I hope. Twenty minutes later he comes back, and the bowl is empty so we figure she's been fed and it's safe to try and get her out.

"Cover me Renf," I pat his arm and gimp as quickly and quietly as I can into the mine. Sure enough there's a light on in there, one of those bulbs-on-a-flex that people buy to put in their workshops. It's got a handgrip and a wire frame around the bulb. The tiny shed is lit by it, and I pull my utility knife out of my pocket, heading for the lock. On the walls beside the shed are old candles and lanterns - abandoned by various people over the years.

"Penny?" I whisper, "My name is Ray Kowalski. Can you hear me honey?"

She whimpers a little and I make a shushing noise as I break the lock and push the door open. She's curled up in a corner, filthy and cold despite the fact that she's wearing jeans and a parka - I remember that she was taken on her way to school, so she'd have been wearing a coat that would keep her warm on the walk from the car to the school. There's a blanket on the floor under her - a good thick one thank god - and nothing else. The light from the bulb outside would only have filtered in a little from the cracks in this old shed.

I take the time to kneel down as best I can - it's not smooth, but I don't want to scare her any more than she already is - and smile at her. If I go in there and grab her she'll most probably scream and we don't need the complications.

"It's ok, honey. I'm here with the Mounties. We're going to take you somewhere warm and safe and call your dad - I promise," I make my voice soft and warm, and she shifts a little to get a better look at me. I take a chance and put my hand out a little, not close enough to grab her, but reaching out.

"Are you hurt?" I ask gently and she shakes her head. She comes a little closer and I smile at her, encouragingly. She's one brave little kid, that's for sure - at her age I'd probably have been bawling and carrying on in this situation.

"You promise to take me home?" she asks, her brown eyes swimming with tears and I nod, not moving to grab her when she comes in range.

"I promise," I tell her, and she takes my hand. I squeeze it - her fingers are freezing - and lurch up onto my feet. I reach over and grab the blanket, folding it so I can wrap it around her snugly, and then pick her up. She's too cold to move quickly now, and a part of me just wants to hold and rock her until the shivers of cold and fear are all gone.

"Ray!" Turnbull appears suddenly, "We've got company!"

Penny makes a frightened noise and clings to my neck with surprising strength. Turnbull is surveying the area, grabbing candles and closing the shed door, the rifle stowed over his shoulder. I'm already heading deeper into the mine - Turnbull wouldn't have come in like this if he thought we could get out, and there was no time now to look for a better hiding place.

"Shhh, Penny. This is Constable Renfield Turnbull of the RCMP, a good friend of mine. Renf, what now?" I glance over my shoulder quickly. Turnbull is walking almost backwards, covering us.

"Get deeper into the tunnel and light a candle," he whispers urgently and I nod grimly. The candle won't be too bright if I shelter it with my body and we'll be at least able to see what's right in front of us.

The shouts of Penny's angry guard echo around us and she buries her face in my neck, tears wetting my skin. I kiss her hair absently, too worried about walking into a wall or pit to take the time for more. Turnbull tugs me to a stop and lights a candle for me. The gloom recedes enough for me to see a bit better and I jiggle Penny a bit to get her attention.

"Hold the candle for me honey," I whisper, "I need to guide Renf along."

She takes the candle, holding it carefully while I latch a hand in Turnbull's jacket, leading him along as he walks backward to cover our escape. If we get caught, he'll have to shoot first and ask questions later. Our progress is painfully slow, but I have a plan. We need to find the tunnel I was in the last time I was here. It had a ventilation shaft that was fairly steep, but narrow like a chimney. The other two should be able to manage it no problem, and once out, Turnbull and the kid can go for help.

0o0o0o0

After what seems like eternity, but is only a couple of hours we reach the ventilation shaft. The candle flickers wildly and almost goes out before I turn us enough to shelter it from the air current. Our pursuers have been dogging us on and off all this time, their shouts echoing through the mine as they call for Penny angrily. I'm not sure if they think she escaped on her own or if they know she has help. Either way we need to get out as quickly as we can now.

On the plus side, between the blanket and my body heat Penny has warmed up and stopped shaking, though she is still scared.

"Where are we?" Turnbull also feels the air current and takes his eyes off the way we came long enough to glance around.

"At the bottom of a ventilation shaft. It slopes enough that it might be possible to climb out," I whisper back, "It's narrow like a chimney."

"Excellent," Turnbull shoulders the rifle and moves quickly to examine the sides of the shaft, taking the candle and shielding it while he sticks his head and shoulders inside.

"I'll go first," he turns back to look at me, "Pass Miss Penny up to me once I am steady and then we'll pull you up too."

"Renf, I can't. My leg won't let me…" I choke to a stop when Penny tightens her grip even more - for a kid she's got one hell of a grip - and Turnbull glares at me in a most impolite fashion.

"No one gets left behind," he tells me, "You will be able to manage this climb. You need to brace your feet on one side of the shaft and your back on the other. Then use your arms to help lever your back up as you walk along the side of the shaft."

I frown, and then flinch when a shout echoes particularly loudly. They're getting close and I know the other two won't go if I don't agree to try this. I nod and Turnbull sticks the candle in a handy niche. I watch closely as he pulls himself up and in, the rifle scraping a little until he gets it positioned just right.

"Ok, honey girl, you've been real brave so far and now it's time to trust me again. Renf will keep you perfectly safe, I promise and when we're out we'll head for home, ok?" I kiss the dirty face and Penny gives me a tiny smile.

"Ok," she whispers. I have to take the blanket off her - it's too bulky for Turnbull to manage on top of her weight - but I wrap her in my scarf. I give her another kiss and a hug then boost her up. She scrabbles for a grip, trying to help and together we get her settled, clinging to Turnbull and giving him a little smile. They're practically nose-to-nose there.

"…blow the place!…"

The words echo around me and I stiffen. I don't know if that's a threat or if someone is shouting at an incompetent idiot. I have a vague memory that there is an old cache of explosives here - left behind a long time ago by students who had permission to try and open up an old passage, I think. Either way I don't want to find out, and I grab the candle. It flickers wildly as I scramble for a hold, but by some miracle it doesn't go out and once inside the shaft the air currents are blocked enough by my body to keep it alight. We had to light a new one just before we got to the shaft, so it's still long enough not to burn me when I hold it in my teeth.

The stiffness of my fake ankle makes things pretty difficult for the first ten minutes until I get a rhythm going; and then it's just a long time of strain. I don't want to crowd Turnbull, but at the same time we need to be close to let the light benefit us both. Penny is whispering encouragement to the man carrying her - it makes my heart warm. She's such a brave kid. The fake leg slips now and then - it's hard not being able to adjust the angle of my foot to the wall and my knee and thigh are screaming in pain in very short order as they do all the work.

About the time I want to just give up and slide back down the shaft, Turnbull stops. I hear him whisper to Penny about lying flat on the ground and being very still and then he's boosting her up, up, and out. He follows in short order and I blow the candle out with my nose before following, sliding oh so gratefully to the ground once I'm out. Now I know why the Pope kisses the ground when he gets off a plane.

The blanket that I stuffed inside my jacket is real warm from all this exercise and I wrap Penny in it again, praising her bravery and courage in a soft voice before picking her up and hustling with Turnbull into the cover of some nearby trees. We keep going up the hill a bit until we come to a lucky snow covered tree. Between the covering of snow on the lower branches and the snow bank around it we find a natural snow cave - the perfect place to shelter for a moment and plan our next move.

Just as we get settled the ground shakes, there's a loud groan and long rumble and then the world settles down again. Penny is clinging to me with arms and legs, her face buried in my neck once more, and Turnbull looks around in consternation.

"That felt like a landslip," he tells me and I frown. The ground here should be pretty hard - what with the frost and all - not the right consistency for a landslide. I rock Penny gently, rubbing her back through the blanket. We've lit the last candle that Turnbull grabbed - thank god for waterproof matches and belt pouches - and the snow cave is well lit.

"There was some yelling about blowing the place…maybe they found an old cache of explosives. That stuff gets unstable if it's old, doesn't it?" I ask Turnbull and he nods. He's as grimy as Penny and looks exhausted. I don't blame him - we've been up a very long time now, and the shaft was gruelling.

"We need to rest for a moment, recover our strength. Then we need to get back to the dogs," he tells me and I nod, reaching for the last of the pemmican. I persuade Penny to eat a bit too and she lets go enough so that I can cradle her in my lap. She falls asleep as soon as the last swallow is gone and I grin at Turnbull.

"A brave young lady," he whispers, "She encouraged me towards the end - despite her fears."

"I heard, champ," I tease and he flushes a little, smiling back. We decide to give it another hour and then move out.

0o0o0o0

We wake Penny and crawl out very carefully. There's no sign of our perps and a part of me hopes they went up with the mine. This time Turnbull leads the way, and I walk in his footprints again with Penny in my arms. He is on the alert, and when we get near the shaft he stops dead.

There was indeed a landslip - we'll have to detour around it to be safe - and I shake my head in amazement. Penny looks at me with astonished eyes and I pull a face for her, earning a little giggle. Turnbull smiles at her and moves off again, leading us down to safety.

It's nearly noon when we finally get to where the dogs are hidden. Not a good time for a clandestine escape, but at least we'll be undercover if we have to wait until it's dark for our escape. The snow around the tree is disturbed, though, and Turnbull freezes in concern.

"There's someone here," he whispers. I frown and look at the tree, then nod. There's been another sled here; it's gone under the tree with ours. Friend or foe? Hard to say from here, though I'm hoping the dogs are ok.

"I can't tell if they've taken the dogs or not," I whisper and Turnbull shakes his head. Penny has fallen asleep in my arms - she's exhausted and I don't want to wake her to more fear. Turnbull's been helping me check that she's ok - not cold or anything. With a gesture he tells me to wait here, and slips away to check.

After a coupla minutes I hear the all clear - a soft hoot that could have been an owl if there were any out this way. I heft the sleeping girl in my arms and slip as quietly as I can from our cover to the relative safety of the team.

"Hey! Chicago! Nanuk!" I whisper as I put Penny down on the sled, "Renf, this is the post's team. Fraser's here!"

I'm covering Penny with the extra blanket we brought and the tarp that the passenger travels under as I greet part of my team and part of Fraser's. The dogs must have been dead tired for him to mix the teams like this. Which also means that Dief is here somewhere - with Chicago in the lead traces, Fraser would have been using Dief to scout ahead, possibly to check our trail.

I let Chicago out of the traces and send him off to find Fraser. It's the safest way to let my lover know we're here without tipping our hand to Penny's kidnappers. They're not woodsmen - any glimpse they get of Chicago will probably make them think wolf not dog.

Turnbull has established himself a lookout in the rear of our shelter, the end facing the mine. I break into the supplies we left on the shed and hand him some juice and trail mix. We both really need something more substantial than that now, but it will have to wait until we get a sit rep from Fraser. I don't want to blow our cover by starting up a fire.

Penny stirs a little and then sits up. She looks for me and gets up, stumbling to my side trailing the blanket. I settle her in my lap with a kiss to the temple and fish out another juice for her. Nanuk comes close and I introduce them, telling Penny we'll be riding with the dogs' home as soon as our friends get here.

"Diefenbaker," Turnbull says, and I urge Penny up off my lap to get up. I've barely taken a step to the edge of the shelter when the wolf knocks me flat, sitting on me and licking, whining and yelping incoherently.

"Dief!" I splutter, "Calm down will ya!"

Penny is giggling and I hear Turnbull snicker in amusement. I guess the wolf met up with Chicago before Frase did and hightailed it here. Frase is gonna have something to say about that. I get him off me and ruffle his fur for a minute before getting up again.

"Ray!" Frase's cry echoes through the trees and I frown. There's an edge to his voice I don't like and I step out of the shelter, gimping towards my running man. He's… aw god he's crying as he runs, a desperate glint to his eyes as I put my arms out to him. I go down again, this time under Fraser. He's holding me and kissing me frantically, sobbing and crying. Incoherent words bubble out of him and I hold tight, wrapping my good leg over his and squeezing him hard until he falls silent.

What little I did hear chills me to the core. He saw the mine go up, and the two people that weren't in there told him that I was…he thought I was dead.

"Aw Ben love. I'm so sorry," I whisper, "I was on the mountain when the mine went up. I'm so sorry I scared you lover."

Dief has joined the pile and my ribs are about to protest when Fraser gets up, wiping his eyes rather shamefacedly and sniffing defiantly. He pulls me up when I hold a hand out and I refuse to let go when I'm upright. I lead him into the shelter to say hello to Turnbull and meet little Penny, reflecting that after that little display Turnbull should be in no doubt about his bosses relationship with me.

Chicago returns to the shelter and I put the harness back on him. I pack Turnbull and Penny onto my sled while Fraser readies his team and we head on out to the mine and the detachment that arrived not long after the explosion. Stevens greets us enthusiastically while Fraser calls off the search for our bodies, though they'll have to keep excavating for the rest of the criminals.

The Inspector in charge of the detachment agrees that we should get Penny back to the clinic at Stony Creek. Steve takes charge of the team I borrowed and Frase packs me onto his sled. Penny insists on riding with me now that I'm a passenger too, and I snuggle her in.

Once she's asleep I free an arm and twist it around to put my hand over Frase's as he drives us home.

0o0o0o0

Chapter Fourteen

Penny's folks are going to fly up in their private plane - with plenty of private guards and a private doctor as well - so by the time we've got her cleaned up, checked out at the clinic, fed a decent meal and asleep in the spare room they'll be at the door, anxious to have their baby back.

She won't let me out of her sight when we get the to clinic - even when the nurses take her clothes off to check her over. Sasha had dug up some of Amy's old clothes, and once it was clear the kid had decided to stick with her buddy Ray, she came up to the cabin with us to help out.

While Fraser sits on the closed toilet - he won't let me out of his sight either - and Dief lays across the doorway, I supervised Penny in the bath. Lots of hot water and plenty of concealing bubbles courtesy of some shampoo added in while the water was running and the rubber duck from my desk in the 2-7 adds the finishing touches. We get her laughing again - the fear in her eyes and the tension in her muscles draining away the longer she is in the warmth - and then Frase holds out a towel while I lift her out.

Sasha has warmed the sweats she'd found for Penny in front of the fire and cooked a meal for us all as well. Turnbull is with Mr Rose and Amy, getting similar treatment I assume, and I make a mental note to give him a call when Penny is asleep.

Sasha gives us all seconds, and then I take Penny into the spare room for a nap. We've been informed of her parents ETA, so I promise her that when she wakes up there will be a great surprise for her and she drifts off to sleep holding my hand. Dief snuck in just as I get her settled and gets up on the bed, guarding her. She puts a hand in his fur too, and I wink at him. I know exactly how comforting he can be.

It takes me a while to get lose, but eventually I manage it and trudge out into the kitchen. Frase and Sasha are sitting on the couch together with the TV on low, and she is holding his hand. I put in a quick call to Turnbull and then go to join them.

There are tear tracks on my lovers face and his breathing is a bit unsteady. I glance at my Canadian mother, and then sit beside my man, putting my arms around him and kissing his temple tenderly.

"I am so sorry I scared ya like that Ben love," I whisper in his ear, "I would never leave you like that. You know I'll wait for ya."

He sobs and buries his face in my neck, just where Penny had. I rock him and kiss his hair until his body relaxes against me. Sasha smiles approval and I smile back, glad that she could be so accepting of our love. We sit together for a while, not really watching the TV until Frase stirs against me. I kiss him again for good measure and get a squeeze in reply.

"You need a shower," his voice is muffled, but normal. I snort and whap his shoulder lightly.

"Yeah, so do you. Come on, you can check to make sure I wash behind my ears," I leer and get up, pulling him after me. Sasha snorts in an entirely different, yet meaningful way, and turns the volume up on the TV a bit. I blush at the implication and pull my lover into the bathroom.

We close the door and I peel out of my clothes, a bit damp from where Penny has splashed me during her bath and a lot dirty from the last few days. I need a shave, and start that job first, Frase at my side. We've perfected the art of shaving and showering together, though I have plans for the shower that don't involve cleanliness.

The last of the bristles gone, I turn on the water, get the temperature just right and pull Ben in with me. He grabs the soap and a rag and starts washing me gently, taking his time to ensure I am super clean. I'm leaning up against him, co-operating when he needs me to move and just basking in the love he is always giving me so freely.

Then it's my turn and I linger over his hot spots, rubbing and stroking suggestively. He's half hard by the time I get to that part of him, and I snicker a little, washing until he's hard and rocking his dick in my hand. I leave that bit of him alone and clean the rest of him, giving his scalp a massage as I do his hair. He is pretty relaxed when I get finished and I kiss him thoroughly.

"If I remember right we were interrupted," I whisper in his ear and before he can grab me I'm on my knees, sucking and licking enthusiastically, worshiping his cock as only a life mate can. He jams his hand in his mouth to muffle his moans and it doesn't take long before I'm swallowing his gift.

He sinks to the shower floor and kisses me hard, pulling me into his lap and reaching for my aching cock. I sigh and give myself over to the pleasure he's offering me, kissing him over and over, breathing 'I love you' into his mouth whenever we break for air, letting my pleasure spill over so gently it brings tears to my eyes.

0o0o0o0

Penny's folks wake her up and she cries a little in her mother's arms, hanging onto her dad's hand and sniffling in that cute way kids have. Her mom persuades her to let the doctor look at her and her dad comes out to the living room with us. Frase is in uniform once more and sitting apart from me in a very proper manner - the furthest he's been from me since we got back.

I'm wearing my new jeans and a knitted sweater, but I refuse to dress up in my own home. Sasha is in the kitchen again, this time making breakfast and I get chased out of my own kitchen when I go to try and help. Turnbull turns up with the extra supplies she called the store for - he's wearing a uniform that I think he borrowed from Steve and I'm glad for the reinforcements. The guys that are currently standing around the wall watching us like we're about to attack their boss are unnerving me.

Frase and Turnbull start telling the Ambassador what happened with me chipping in now and then. I'm next to him on the couch with Dief sulking at my feet because the doctor kicked him out. We're getting to the airshaft when Penny starts shouting in the spare room. Before we can even get up the door opens and she appears, dragging the doctor over to the couch, her cheeks flushed with temper.

"There!" she drops his hand and glares, "Ray had an adventure too!"

"What's up honey?" I ask, grinning. Frase has relaxed already, probably figuring out what's going on. Penny frowns, her eyes bright with temper and tears.

"You have to get checked out too. The nurses at the clinic didn't look after you, and Dr Mike says that he doesn't have to either!" she stamps her foot and I pull her into my lap, dropping a kiss on her temple like I always do, even though I haven't known her that long. She leans into me and Turnbull takes her hand, sitting beside me on the couch.

"I'm ok, honey, I didn't need the nurses to look me over," I rub her back. If she's well enough for a tantrum then she's ok, and I'm kinda glad to see it.

"But your leg is sore! You limp!" she protests and puts her face in my neck. I rub her back and sigh a little. I didn't want to get into this with her, but I guess that she has to know about the stump if she's going to calm down.

"Penny, I was a cop back in Chicago a little while ago. A bit more than a year, actually," I look at Frase in astonishment. Has it really been a year already?

"So?" she leans back to look at me. I pull a face and get a reluctant smile. Turnbull has a hand on my shoulder now, and Fraser is standing close by, smiling his support.

"I got hurt on my very last case, honey. My leg was hurt pretty bad and that's why I walk the way I do. The nurses know all about it, so they didn't have to check," I give her the broad truth, hoping…

"How bad?" she asks and I sigh, hopes dashed.

"I've only got one whole leg left, honey - you're sitting on it. The other one stops at the knee," I can't help the blush and she stares at me with wide eyes. Yeah, I'm a damaged freak, honey. Don't hate me, ok?

"But you carried me and climbed up the shaft!" she protests, "Wow! That's pretty cool!"

"Cool?" I ask, confused. Freakish, yes, but cool? I shake my head and decide not to try and figure her out.

"Very cool," Turnbull chimes in and I give him the evil eye a little. Not that he's bothered; he grins and tips his head at me. I roll my eyes and look at my lover, who is beaming at me.

"Breakfast!" Sasha calls, just in the nick of time and I put Penny on her feet. She grabs my hand and pulls me to the table, Frase and her parents chuckling behind us. I guess she's like this all the time then. God help the guy that marries her.

0o0o0o0

We see the back of Penny and her folks after a couple of days. The Ambassador and his wife are very eflu…ellu…vocal about how thankful they are for all we did. Turnbull and Fraser and Stevens will probably get a medal or something out of all this. I'm hoping that if Turnbull decides to stay with us he'll be able to trade on this to smooth the way.

Steve and Renf both offer to man the post for the day after they leave and Fraser thanks them kindly, accepts with alacrity and shuffles me off to the cabin. I barely have the breath to ask what the hurry is, and Dief runs ahead, scooting inside the minute the door is opened. It's a good thing he does too.

Frase kicks the door closed, grabs me, throws me over his shoulder and carries me into the bedroom, throwing me onto the bed. I'm laughing so hard I'm practically crying here and he strips, his face alight with amusement, love and unbridled lust. He grabs me and strips me as well. It's not until hours later that I realise he's taken my leg off, touched the stump of what was my right leg and I didn't freak.

Then he's on me, kissing my mouth, my face, his hot skin rubbing over mine in an electric charge that shocks right through my body, ricocheting through me and lodging in my cock. I harden against him and he smiles tenderly, before latching onto my neck and sucking, the sting telling me he's left a passion mark there for anyone to see.

I moan loudly and start rubbing against him. His beautiful cock is rubbing against mine and I need more, running my hands over his shoulders and back greedily. He growls and grabs my hands before I can grab his ass and pins them over my head.

"Mine," he growls. My cock hardens even more and I shudder in desire. I've never been possessed before and it feels good. He's staking his claim after he gave me up for dead at the mine, and I want to give him what he needs. Later I'll do a little staking of my own.

"Yours," I agree, "Love you Ben."

"Yes," he lowers his head and starts sniffing and licking and nibbling. I'm so turned on I can't see straight as he finds a nipple and settles in for some serious teasing. He roams over my chest and belly, skips my cock completely - earning a very unmanly whine - and sucks on my thighs and knees before heading up again to chew on my hips.

About the time I'm about to go crazy with desire and all kinds of neat stuff, he flips me over and starts on my back. I'm so hot for him that I'm begging him shamelessly to touch me, let me come. My dick is bursting, dripping for him.

He ignores me, licking his way oh so excruciatingly slowly down my back. He nibbles his way all over my ass cheeks, holding me down while he does so I can't rub against the sheets and get some relief. Then he parts the flesh there and dives in.

I feel his tongue against my hole and start screaming, my fingers wrapping around the top of the mattress. I feel the sadistic bastard smiling against my ass as he opens me with long slow licks that have the top of my head floating off into the atmosphere.

When it comes back he's deep inside me, hitting my happy button with each stroke. He's pounding me, my hips held up in his hands as he thrusts into me so hard the whole bed shakes. I start howling again as the pleasure builds once more. My cock is throbbing in time with each thrust.

Ben is grunting above me, totally gone. I buck against him, riding hard on his cock and his hands tighten in response. I'll have finger shaped bruises there tomorrow and I don't care. This feels so good it should be illegal, and probably is. He's totally gone, cave-Mountie and I'm loving every second of it.

He growls and then screams, his hips bucking out of control as he comes, taking me with him for the second time. I float away to a very happy place for a long time.

When I get back I feel like I ruptured something when I came, but I've got my man on my chest, snuggling and dopey so that's ok. I grunt to let him know I'm alive and sink a hand into his hair, fingers stroking restlessly. I've got no idea what the time is, or even what day it is - hell I'm lucky to know my name at the moment.

"I love you," it's the most important thing to me that he knows this, that he understands that I'm not going anywhere without him. As incredible as the sex is when he's reclaiming my skinny butt, I don't ever want him to feel that afraid ever again. I scared him when he first heard about my accident, and the mine hasn't helped with the abandonment issues left over from his childhood. That's ok, though. We've got the rest of our lives to work on this.

"…grmph lvvvvph ootwhhh…"

I think, translated from post mind-blowing sex, that was I love you too. I grin stupidly up at the ceiling and just float along with him for a while. Ray Kowalski this is your life.

I sure am one lucky bastard.

-end-


End file.
